Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Echo In My Mind ❯ Chapter 5

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“Blah.” = Speaking out loud in Japanese.

 

-“Blah.”- = Speaking out loud in Egyptian Arabic.

 

`Blah' = Song lyrics, only sung out loud if quoted as either of the above.

 

~Blah~ = Past conversations (memory).

 

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`Take a look around, this is what I see
Is there anybody else that feels like me, yeah
You sweat, you sweat, you bleed, you bleed
What you get ain't what you see
Up is down and black is white to me'

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Lulled in the mist of dreams and frivolous fantasies, he was only conscious enough to realize that the solid line of warmth he had been sleeping beside was no longer there. It was a pain, but eventually Bakura managed to stretch one lid open to peer drowsily at the space where his boyfriend should have been. As though he believed his eyes were deceiving him, the pale man reached an arm out to where Yami had been only moments ago. He knew the boy hadn't been gone long because there was still the faint valley in the sheets that radiated trapped body heat, which the white-haired male was quick to roll onto and bury his face in.

 

Like a spell, the subtle hint of Yami's spiced-citrus scent was enough to drag Bakura back into a state of unconsciousness. He was no more worried about the boy past the fact he thought it was insane of him to be up at this ungodly hour. Even so, Yami had always been an early riser, thus the thoughts were forgotten just as fairy-tale dreams began to trickle into his mind again at a pace in which he couldn't keep track of in normal time.

 

And then there was a shriek.

 

Violently torn from his sleep, Bakura felt a rush of dizziness pummel his body as he sat up and glanced around. “Yami?” He was more alert than his groggily slurred speech announced, the fact proven as his mahogany eyes widened at another cry and thud.

 

“Ah! M-Mariku! Pl-please stop!”

 

An unnatural gleam of rage spread throughout his eyes, white knuckles cracking as Bakura's fist tightened considerably amid the man's determined stride from his room. It wasn't difficult to judge where the commotion was coming from, and considering Yami's room was only several paces from his own, Bakura growled and made his appearance among the disarray with a loud slam of the door in a matter of seconds, gawking heatedly at the panting Egyptians tangled among bed sheets.

 

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`I'm complicated, I get frustrated
Right or wrong, love or hate it
I'm complicated, you can't sedate it
I heard that song but I won't play it'

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Red eyes glittered as a single streak of dawn drew the boy to awake, a mewling yawn set forth as he busied himself with twists and stretches of his body. Giggling softly at the vaguely snoring figure beside him, Yami squirmed out of his lover's grasp and bed silently, toes curling at the cold floor as he squeaked and skittered to stand on a combined pile of clothing.

 

Apparently Bakura had undressed them both for bed, how Yami had managed to sleep through it was beyond the boy's grasp, but he grinned at the fact he was wearing one of his boyfriend's sweatshirts along with his own boxers. He was becoming remarkably cold though as his heel still touched part of the chilled floorboards despite squirming on top of the mussed clothing. Puffing his cheeks up indignantly at the floor, he wrung his hands together a few times as he thought and nodded to himself, braving the cold so he could leave the room and at least get some socks on.

 

This, of course, meant crossing the hall too, which Yami mentally whined about as his poor feet were beginning to numb from the longer than expected shock of cold as he dashed to his room. Gently knocking on the door first, the boy poked his head into the room and giggled at the sight before him while stepping into the carpeted bedroom. His guest was sprawled hazardously across the bed, wild mane of blond hair nearly brushing the ground as the dark figure slept soundly, shirt riding well up his chest as the older Egyptian twitched and mumbled nonsense about runaway Nile beasts.

 

Crossing the room with a shake of his head, the boy nibbled his lip in amusement, tugging on some much needed socks while picking out a long shirt and exceptionally small pair of running shorts that would disappear once he donned his shirt. Yami was well aware his attire wasn't proper, but it was his normal pajama-wear, and considering he still had a shower and several hours to kill before he needed to dress more appropriately, he saw no harm in the matter. And so going about his normal thoughts and routine, brushing his hair free of nonexistent tangles, he hummed to himself and momentarily forgot about Mariku, who slept no more than several feet away even as the boy went so far as to change right then and there.

 

In fact, it wasn't until after Yami had tied back the darker strands of his hair in a ponytail that the boy realized what he had done and blushed furiously, whipping around to face the embarrassment, only to note that his guest was still in the same position and unconscious. Breathing a sigh of relief, Yami fought off his blush even as he crossed the room to reach his bedside, curiously looking over the sleeping Egyptian, and innocently wondering if Mariku was cold with his borrowed shirt riding so high up. Gingerly he reached over and began to tug the other's shirt down, blinking inquiringly when he spotted an intricate line of ink half hidden by rumpled sheets. Yami didn't quite find it intrusive of him to peek further, so he matted down the sheet wrinkles and clambered onto the bed, head cocked as he looked over the design with awe.

 

The pattern was sprawled just beside Mariku's abdomen, the network of lines growing more intense and beautiful as they came together to form a phoenix, the bird's tail feathers arching over the tanned flesh to meet in a near full-circle before the creature's beak. Yami smiled as he traced the lines with a fingertip, lost in old-thoughts before he yelped in surprise at the burst of laughter beside him.

 

-“That tickles, stop!”-

 

Quickly yanking his fingers away from the darker skin, the boy blushed brightly as he blurted out apologies and made to slide off the bed, going rigid when the other Egyptian grabbed his wrist and held him in place.

 

-“Aw, I'm not upset, darling. Don't worry.”- Mariku smiled at the boy when Yami glanced up hesitantly, chuckling and offering a playful pout for the youth to emphasis the fact he was fine.

 

-“I didn't mean to… um. Touch you.”-

 

The bright flush was grinned at, Mariku snickering and gently tugging the boy to slide closer to his side, and once he felt the anxiety melt away from the wiry frame, the taller of the Egyptians took Yami's fingers and guided them back over the markings. -“I hardly mind. It's nice to have someone appreciate them, you know.”- The lazy drag of delicate fingertips sent invisible shivers over Mariku's body as he made sure to keep the tracing methodical and wholly seductive, following the contours of his muscles that led more than a little off course.

 

Efforts were lost though as Yami merely giggled and blinked innocently, eventually slipping his hand free and shaking his head at the man in his bed. -“Well, they're very pretty tattoos, I'll say that. They're better than…”- Trailing off with a blush, the boy shook his head and yelped when the taller grinned predatorily and managed to sit up and pin him down in one movement, a flicker of panic rising in Yami's eyes, but quickly diminished once he noticed the ample room Mariku allowed him for escape.

 

-“Better than what, darling? You wouldn't happen to sport some as well, now would you?”- The cheeky grin was accompanied by laughter as the smaller figure squirmed and blushed brighter beneath him. -“Ah, may I see? I promise not to touch…”- Too much, that is. But Yami didn't need to hear the end of his statement.

 

-“Um…”- Stilling his squirms, the youth blinked quickly in an effort to clear his muddled thoughts, finally raising his bashful gaze to meet the prominent violet eyes above him. -“Alright, but remember, you said you wouldn't touch!”- Waiting until the other Egyptian nodded in agreement, although Yami had to admit he didn't quite trust that gorgeous grin, the boy took a calming breath before flushing and hiking his shirt up as he faced away.

 

Now, Mariku hadn't quite been prepared for such, after all, he had thought the boy wasn't even wearing shorts beneath that particularly long shirt. And so after quelling his overly excited pulse, the Egyptian regained most of his composure and dutifully admired Yami's legs and trim waist before he spotted the marking around the boy's navel. The Ankh was relatively small, but well-proportioned to Yami's body, the very bottom of the inked pattern dipping beneath the waistband of the boy's shorts.

 

As much as he would have loved nothing more than to yank those damn shorts down and claim he was only trying to see the tattoo in total, the taller of the two only smirked and decided to curve the boy's embarrassment to acquire a lighter tone. Not giving much of a warning, Mariku impulsively lowered his head and grinned at the wide, shocked red eyes that suddenly locked onto his own overly amused violet eyes when the blond man's mouth pressed against Yami's flesh.

 

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`It's alright, it's OK, you wouldn't want me any other way
Momma, keep on praying `cause I ain't changin'
I'm complicated, yeah
I'm complicated, yeah'

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He shrieked.

 

Yami, that is.

 

It wasn't out of fear, or pain, or anything much to be concerned with, other than the fact that it couldn't be helped since the sensation of Mariku blowing a raspberry on his tummy was so euphoric, the boy was resorted to a burst of laughter he hadn't experienced in a long while. Helplessly trying to shove the taller off himself, Yami's body jolted to life and tried to twist and buck away, the continued torture resulting in near violent movements that eventually led to them both falling from the bed with a cry and less than pleasant thud to the ground. Even then, Mariku didn't relent as he was quick to haul the scrambling, sheet tangled Yami toward himself and once more treat the boy's stomach to the ticklish gesture; smug grin plastered across the taller's face the entire time.

 

“Ah! M-Mariku! Pl-please stop!”

 

It was harder for him to understand the Japanese when it was wrapped with laughter and ragged panting as the boy struggled to breathe amongst the humor shuddering his body, not that Mariku would have voluntarily stopped anyway, but both Egyptians jerked to a startled halt and glanced up at the sudden slam of the door opening.

 

Rage was evident in the mahogany eyes cast upon them, although Bakura's venomous glare was fully savoring Mariku. A waver of calculation at the situation brought forth heartache in his eyes as the pale man thought the worse, before a relieved blink acknowledged the fact both parties were dressed and tangled in a more provocative pose than what the situation really presented.

 

“What the -fuck- is going on?”

 

Eventually the pants and random, half-concealed, giggles were completely silenced, Yami shamefully withdrawing from the other Egyptian, and idly fixing his ponytail and shirt as he stood. “I… We were just playing, Kura…”

 

“Did he hurt you?” An acidic frown was tossed Mariku's way to match the deadly threat in the white-haired man's voice, the shake of Yami's head followed with a slow inspection of the boy to make sure of such. “I heard you… And I thought…” Frowning all the while, Bakura scanned the boy's arms and legs dutifully, all the while he was admired by the taller Egyptian still sprawled on the ground, after all, it would have been rude not to appraise the pale man's exposed chest.

 

Fresh from bed it seemed, very nice.

 

“I didn't mean to worry you… He just tickled me…” Nibbling his lip worriedly, Yami trembled slightly as his muscles still echoed from the delightful onslaught; the boy sighing as his lover merely grunted and embraced him securely. “Kura… I'm fine. You're being paranoid.”

 

“Look who's talking.” Biting his tongue a second too late, Bakura shut his eyes and mentally slapped himself, groaning aloud when the boy tensed and yanked away from him. “YamYam… You know I didn't mean it like that.”

 

“Hn.” Frowning sharply, Yami crossed his arms and faced the taller after taking several steps, hurt evident in the red depths, but more resentment than anything as he puffed his cheeks up and helped Mariku stand. “I know that, Kura, but the fact that you won't listen to or trust me is what hurts. Can't you be nice to Mariku? He hasn't done anything, but you're always so rude to him.”

 

“Oh, I don't mind.” The taller Egyptian smoothly interjected, bowing his head ever so politely to the boy in thanks for helping him up, and slipping a grin to the pale man across from them. This game was his, and like it or not, Bakura couldn't even stop his lover from playing just as Mariku wished. “My feelings aren't hurt or anything, darling…”

 

The razor fine smirk and accentuation he added to the epithet did just as it was meant to, making the boy smile adoringly up at him, and the pale man tighten his jaw and fists with fury livid in the darkening pools of mahogany.

 

Too easy.

 

“Ah, I hadn't noticed that picture on your pajama earlier, darling.” Mariku held the boy at arm's length, grinning as he swore he heard a knuckle or two crack from Bakura's direction. “Is that a cup of coffee?”

 

Yami giggled giddily, oblivious to the rage emanating from his lover as he simply went on to point to the blue cup on his pajama with a nod. “Actually…” Turning around swiftly, the boy grinned sheepishly as he showed off the English written on the back. “It says, `Coffee, Tea, Or Me?'. Amane gave it to me as a gift. She said it was the title of a book she read, but she got it because it reminded her of Kura and I.” Turning around once more, a silly grin was plastered across Yami's face while the boy bobbed on his toes as he spoke. “See, Kura only drinks tea, I adore coffee, while we both love each other!” Apparently having forgotten his sour moment with his boyfriend, the youth giggled happily as he dashed back to his lover, and quickly pounced onto Bakura's chest, brushing his cheek against the bare skin adoringly. “Right?”

 

“…Hai, Yami. Very much so.” Kissing the boy's presented lips gently, Bakura smiled at the bashful giggle as Yami blushed and returned the peck before pulling away with a wave of his hand to both men.

 

“Yuugi will be here soon, and I need a shower. Both of you behave, ne?” There was no sense in even interrupting as the tri-color haired youth yanked some clothes out for himself and trotted by them happily, his voice laced with an authoritarian demand that required little emphasis. “Mariku, make the bed and toss your clothes in the washer down the hall. Kura, let him borrow some clothes.” The tone sounded odd coming from Yami, at least to the taller Egyptian, but by now Mariku had figured out that the boy was by no means weak. Somewhere between the two distinct emotional bursts Yami had expressed already, one being relentless sorrow while the other innocent bliss that bordered ignorance, Mariku suspected the youth had other emotions coiled within his seemingly frail frame, some of which the elder Egyptian wasn't quite sure even he could handle were they to burst free, especially if aimed at him. “Both of you dress and wash up, and no fighting. I'll make us breakfast soon as I'm done!” Yami's perky voice remained in the room even after the boy had slipped out of the room and into the shower, both men left to blink in silence at their orders.

 

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`Is there anybody out there?
Just like everybody out there
Just one somebody out there, Just like me'

 

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“…Well, get me my clothes, Ba-Kura.” Grinning cheekily at the paler man didn't help alleviate Bakura's frown, much less the fact the Egyptian thought it a grand idea to stalk closer to his prey and circle him, the vulture-like prowl making the shorter of the two growl in response. “Does he always order others around? Or does Yami keep that for just his bitches?”

 

“I'll kick your ass right this moment if you don't back the hell off.”

 

Measuring the pitch in the paler's voice, Mariku grinned as he knew he still had several metaphoric paces to take before he even reached the fine line between enraging the other man or simply provoking him into violence. But he didn't wish to disappoint Yami, after all, he was his ticket to the full three course meal should his lover choose to be more difficult than initially anticipated. Thus Mariku took it upon himself to leave the pale object of his lust, and dare he admit it, infatuation, alone somewhat to do as told and make the bed, not without a few provocative poses though. Then again, he could always just say that he had no control over just how much his borrowed boxers slipped over his skin to reveal more than a few well-sculpted curves in the paler's direction.

 

“Don't take offense, Ba-Kura. I didn't mean to insinuate you were his bitch… Despite it being all too true.” The Egyptian's smirk resided on more than just his lips, laughter and deviousness dancing lividly across his violet eyes when he matched gazes with the other, crooning while tucking the last pillow into place. “Or are you jealous that Yami's taken with me as well? So now you're not the only one he admires, and I hardly mind falling under his command, so who knows… maybe I'll come out as his top choice when it comes to pulling tricks and being a good lapdog.” At that Mariku grinned all too widely, leaning across the bed to straddle the edge, a finger placed at his lips and lewdly drawn into his mouth with a healthy faux moan.

 

Bakura's eyes widened after several seconds, recognizing the quiet words the Egyptian muttered around his own finger, the phrases being those his lover had panted blissfully the night before when the paler had pleasured the boy. “You… You bastard!” Even he couldn't help the rise of color in his cheeks, the flush all too noticeable on his pale flesh as Bakura froze to his spot in embarrassment. He didn't have qualms about being watched while giving Yami head; it was the slight detail that it had been Mariku to watch them that made the white-haired man mentally squirm. “You saw- You- Listened?! You… Bastard!” Bakura wasn't about to childishly protest the fact he found the taller attractive, had they crossed paths on a different day, perhaps he and Mariku would have hit it off as close friends… lacking benefits only because he was dutifully loyal to Yami, but the gorgeous company of the taller would have openly been welcome.

 

However, until his inflamed annoyance, anger, and embarrassment subsided, Bakura doubted he could stand the other's company much longer, regardless of his mouthwatering looks.

 

“Fucking… Re… You had no right to watch!”

 

Ah damn, he couldn't even help himself as his renegade eyes drifted across the other man's sculpted body when the Egyptian shifted and rolled his shoulders invitingly with hooded eyes, Mariku still haughtily treating the digit with sinful noises.

 

Alright, so perhaps he could stand the jackass. As arrogant and fucking annoying as Mariku was, the paler couldn't help but admire him. If anything it was due to how well he treated Yami despite acting like a whore toward Bakura. It crawled under his skin that anyone other than himself and close friends could make the boy so comfortable, but at the same time Bakura was glad, relieved that someone new was mingling in his lover's otherwise barren social life.

 

That didn't mean he couldn't be pissed off at Mariku's voyeuristic announcement and insistent antics though, after all, Bakura at least had to pretend to loathe the tanned intruder more than he truly did.

 

“Bastard!”

 

“My, you're so eloquent.” Violet eyes rolled in amusement, the Egyptian licking his finger over and slowly trailing the digit over his own lips and chin, grinning triumphantly when he noticed Bakura hadn't quite been looking him in the eye. “It was my mistake, I hadn't expected to drop in on you two, and don't bitch at me about it being other wise. Why the hell would I lie?” Glowering mahogany met his gaze again, Mariku shrugging as he slid off the bed and smoothed the sheets over before sauntering toward the other. “I wholly enjoyed the show though…”

 

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`I'm complicated, I get frustrated
Right or wrong, love or hate it
I'm complicated, you can't sedate it
I heard that song but I won't play it
It's alright, it's okay, you wouldn't want me any other way
Momma, keep on praying, `cause I ain't changin'
I'm complicated, I get frustrated
Right or wrong, love or hate it
I'm complicated, you can't sedate it
Heard that song but I won't play it'

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Reveling in the tension that made itself all too noticeable over Bakura's bared shoulders, the Egyptian grinned and pressed his still moistened fingertip against a dip on the paler's chest once Mariku reached his prey.

 

“It was hot… watching your mouth work wonders…”

 

Heated breath was showered against his neck from behind as the Egyptian kept his finger in place and stepped behind the shorter, Bakura's frame trembling beneath his skin at the proximity he couldn't honestly deny felt good.

 

“Yami moaning pleasurably… fucking your mouth until he came…”

 

Damn him.

 

“And what about you, Ba-Kura?... Whose mouth do you wish to taint?...”

 

There was something intoxicating about Mariku's voice. Whether it was the fact his words were raising all too arousing visuals, or that his breath was edging closer to his ear, Bakura was reacting to the hushed croon against his will, blood pooling in places he didn't need to be filled at the moment.

 

“I'm sure Yami's pleasured you, mm, yes… I can imagine it…”

 

He should just yank away, punch the bastard's nose in, and throw Mariku out the window.

 

“He does it gently, doesn't he? Slowly teasing you until you're hot and hard.”

 

But he couldn't… he wouldn't… Why?

 

“Kitten licks and butterfly kisses, all along your cock… Up and down, over and over… until you can hardly breathe…”

 

Palms tingling, mahogany darkening, heartbeat throbbing…

 

“And when he finally takes you in… his small, tight, wet, hot mouth…”

 

And still he didn't break away as he knew he should, listening for more instead, allowing his eyes to shut to the husky voice below his ear, teeth clenched as he held a breathy groan back.

 

“You can't help but moan… But as you allow him to do as he wants at his own pace, you wish for something else…”

 

Mariku grinned ruthlessly at the shorter's wonderful reactions, fingertip scratching down and across the pale chest to ring a semi-erect nipple while pressing his body seamlessly against Bakura's now.

 

“Something more… something harder, more forceful… Hungry. Just for you…”

 

Pallid lips parted for sips of air, not having been quite aware of the held breath that seared his lungs, the dizzying effect claiming Bakura's senses to the point he found himself suddenly not hating Mariku anymore, craving his words instead.

 

“You're tired of bearing the burden, aren't you?...”

 

He gave a minute nod, shivering as a pair of foreign lips brushed against his neck from the movement, but he was only partially agreeing, he could never consider Yami a burden, but the strain of holding back from deeper desires was.

 

“You don't want something else, you want someone else, don't you, Akeifa?”

 

The name steered Bakura towards reality, the abrupt anchor to what was said clanging deafening bells in his mind in alarm, causing his eyes to snap open widely.

 

“Even when you praise him, tell him just how good he is, you're lying…”

 

It was a hiss now, a sinful viper was at his ear and holding him in place, a grip at his shoulders he hadn't noticed keeping him from breaking away and glaring at the accusation.

 

“Of course it satisfies, but it's not enough. You want someone else; desperately… you want someone to make you scream.”

 

Bakura vehemently tried to escape the stifling closeness, all too aware of the Egyptian's stronger, darker body being pressed against his own, but he managed only to thump against the taller's chest with each violent jerk for freedom, a hybrid feeling of anger and embarrassment radiating throughout the pale man's frame. How dare Mariku read him, and with that smug, infuriating accuracy too, who was he to unearth Bakura's thoughts and desires?

 

“I can make you scream until you're hoarse, Ba-Kura…”

 

And with that he was released, the white-haired male stumbling forward awkwardly with a ragged intake of air before he whirled around and defensively faced the other. “I'm sorry to disappoint you, but keep your fucking dick in your pants!” Bakura's voice quivered oddly, the fact he was still riled up from the Egyptian's earlier words evident and hardly helping matters, especially since there was a noticeable twitch in the paler's boxers when he realized Mariku was suffering from the same dilemma, although much more calmly.

 

“But as you can see, it's rather hard for me to keep the horny bugger contained…” Lewdly grinning at the man across from him, Mariku ran a brazen palm across the front of his own boxers, breathless moan accompanying the self-touch for show. “…Mm, oh! Did I mention I jacked off in the shower with you in mind?” The swallow taken by the shorter was smirked at in amusement, a gold brow arching suddenly as the Egyptian airily shrugged and slipped dark fingers through his wild hair while turning on his heels and stepping out of the room, leaving behind a flustered Bakura who angrily fisted his hands and mentally screamed at the state he was left in.

 

Despite Mariku's wish to tease the paler man further, especially about the impressive erection he managed to conjure, the blond had picked up on the sound of the washroom door opening, the warm scent of Yami's shower greeting the taller Egyptian as soon as he took several steps down the hall. “Darling!”

 

The boy in question blinked and popped his head into the hall, drippy hair only half ruffled and in a disarray of varying spikes. “You're not dressed…” A small frown crossed Yami's face, disappointed his orders had not been followed through, although the scarlet-eyed Egyptian was quick to giggle when the other slung an arm around his shoulders and purred into his ear.

 

“Oh, forget that a moment. I have a plan to run by you, since you do seem to be the master of the household…”

 

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`I'm smart enough to know what I don't know
I'm fool enough to stay when I should go
You work, you work, you cry, you cry
You watch your whole life pass you by
Sometimes you've got to close your eyes to see'

 

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“Kura! What would you like for breakfast?” Chirping quite happily as he was now dressed and combed to his liking, Yami grinned as he slid across the hall in his socks to reach his bedroom once more, gawking at the sight on his bed with a squeak. “Bakura Akeifa! What are you doing?!”

 

Caught with his hand deep in the metaphoric cookie jar, the paler jerked, quite literally, as he bit his lip and covered himself with a pillow. “What the hell does it look like? Just shut the door before that prick comes to watch the show…” Again. Although Bakura thought it best not to tag that unto his statement for Yami's sake.

 

“Gah! You could have at least kept your boxers on…” Yami released an exasperated sigh with a huff, hands firmly planted on his hips as he stuck his tongue out at his busy lover. “And why on my bed? You have your own. Honestly!” Shaking his head, the boy ignored Bakura's groans while getting his shoes and tugging them on, sliding a few glances at the paler when he heard him move the pillow away to regain full access to himself, Yami was allowed to indulge himself with the sight at least. “I didn't shut the door, you know.” A grunt sufficed as an answer to that between erratic pants, the boy watching with humored interest as he plopped onto the bed beside Bakura and giggled. “Gods, Kura… Masturbating before breakfast isn't normal for you, unless you had that weird schoolboy spanking dream again?”

 

“…Are you going to help me, or just… mock me?”

 

“Mm…” Rolling onto his stomach until his elbows were propped beside his boyfriend's sporadically rising and falling chest, Yami grinned and tapped his lips with a finger in amused consideration before lending a helping hand. “Help, I guess, since you asked so nicely…”

 

Any possible retort was choked back as the boy's skillful fingers entwined with Bakura's to fluidly manipulate the paler's arousal, a quiet moan breathed out as Yami dutifully drew out the teasing with firm strokes and pumps along the rigid flesh while craning his neck to lightly sprinkle kisses and licks along Bakura's chest and shoulder. Several moments passed, the white-haired man's body flush with warmth and a fine mist of sweat as a more ragged intake of air became necessary when his body twitched and tensed in warning, Bakura actively seeking out and latching onto the boy's lips to muffle his raw growl in a hard kiss when his hips bucked into their hands instinctively for his gratifying release.

 

Soothing out the spasms that riddled his lover's body, Yami smiled and held their kiss together even after the pale body calmed and sagged slightly against the bed, a soft mewl escaping him as he broke their mouths apart for some damnable air. “…You do realize you're changing my sheets now, right?”

 

“…Mood spoiler…”

 

“I love you too.” He giggled and wiped his hand against the sheets to rid himself of Bakura's seed, wrinkling his nose at the sticky residue before shifting to wrap his arms around the paler's neck. “Kura…” Nestling his head at the crook of Bakura's shoulder, the boy peeked up at his now suspicious looking lover, Yami blinking up pathetically with a pout. “Promise you won't be mad…”

 

“YamYam, what is it?” Bakura's head seemed to tease with the idea of aching as he wondered if it was even worth speculating what the boy was about to tell him. It more than likely had to do with Mariku, and while he had maintained a relatively calm voice, he could feel it in Yami's tensed frame that whatever the shorter was about to say wouldn't cross well with Bakura.

 

Fidgeting slightly, the boy nibbled his lip while snuggling closer Bakura, face burying itself along his lover's throat so Yami's words came out quiet and muffled. “You know that almost empty room down the hall?... It's, um… Going to be fuller now…” He waited for the growl or swears, perhaps even the possible aggravated rant, but nothing of the sort came from Bakura, the boy then biting his lip as he worried over this further. “…Kura?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“…I… Um, that means Mariku, he asked and I told him he could, that is… he's moving in-”

 

“I'm not stupid, YamYam. I'm aware of what you mean.”

 

Yami's eyes shut as small tears prickled the edges, he didn't understand what the other's neutral voice meant, was Bakura upset or not? “I'm sorry, but he has no where else to go! His brother's barely got room for himself, and we aren't using that room for much anyway, I just felt so bad. Mariku's not a bad person, Kura. Just give him a chance; I'm sure you'll get along soon. But if you really want him gone I can tell him we-”

 

The boy was silenced with a small yelp as Bakura tugged him part way over his chest, Yami nervously glancing at him, and calming at the soft kiss to his lips and forehead. “I'm fine with your decision, honest.” Bakura knew he really couldn't say he didn't find the idea more than a little relieving, especially considering that something inside him fluttered at the prospect of having that damn, arrogant bastard so close at a constant. The more he thought about it, the more Bakura hated himself for realizing he really couldn't have imagined Mariku not living there.

 

Damn him for worming his way into Bakura's mind, and quite possibly threatening to nestle right where he held Yami. Hearts weren't made to love two people in the same way, Bakura certainly believed this as he found it agonizing to try and sort out what it was he felt toward Mariku. Lust, certainly, but physical desire alone didn't cause oddly fuzzy feelings at the pit of one's stomach. It was the same enlightened feeling he felt whenever Yami smiled at him or laughed; the exact same sensation of being happy just because he knew he could come home and see Yami everyday.

 

And now… that thrill of knowing Mariku would be there too was melding into a replicated feeling he already held towards Yami. Love was a bitch to define, everyone felt it differently after all, and so was it possible for him to feel it twice? Well fuck, if that idiot boyfriend of his brother's claimed to love Ryou -and- Amane, then why should Bakura doubt he could share his heart as well?

 

Bloody hell he sounded like a pansy right now.

 

Mentally chastising himself for his utterly confusing train of thought, Bakura made a note to review his personal philosophies later since for now he couldn't let Yami catch on to his potentially screwed up love triangle.

 

“I'm not mad, especially since he already stayed the night and I survived…” With some morning tension, but Bakura was sure he would formulate a plan to combat Mariku's advances more effectively, making sure Yami was always in the room would be his default defense for now though. “He will pay rent, help you around, and keep the hell away from my room if he expects to stay though.”

 

Smiling widely at his boyfriend's unexpected cooperation, Yami hugged the other firmly with a grateful kiss before squirming off the bed and hopping to his feet happily. “Thank you! Mariku will be grateful, really! I don't know why everyone insists you're mean and cold, Kura.”

 

“Because I'm not nice, warm, or in love with everyone.”

 

“I should hope not.”

 

“You sound jealous.”

 

“Look who's talking.” Sticking his tongue out in triumph, Yami grinned and tossed Bakura his discarded boxers while pointing at the door. “Go shower and dress, Mariku went to his brother's place to get what he brought from Egypt. I want you ready and fed so you can help him move in by the time he comes back.”

 

“What did you not understand about me not being nice or warm to others?” Bakura glowered, mostly for show as he couldn't yet embrace the thought of acquiring a new icon for selfish fantasies. He stretched out kinks from his body a moment before he stood and ruffled his hair while stalking toward the door, still quite naked considering the washroom was rather close and he didn't have cause for alarm if the blond Egyptian wasn't even in the apartment. It wasn't that he didn't want Mariku to see him naked, he felt naked enough as it was considering he couldn't even sort out his own feelings and thoughts, but until Bakura figured out a solid plan to follow through, he felt more secure fighting away opportunities for the Egyptian to pounce.

 

“Hush. You have to be nice because he's going to be our roomie!” Slipping past Bakura to go make breakfast, the boy giggled as he shook his head to the other's unknowingly faux grumblings that were perfectly audible even once locked behind the washroom door. Yami smiled once he heard Bakura start his shower, and quietly spoke to himself as he prepared their breakfast with a faint blush on his cheeks. “And maybe, just maybe, you'll like him as much as I do…”

 

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`Is there anybody out there?
Just like everybody out there
Just one somebody out there
Just like me
Is there anybody out there
Just like everybody out there
Just one somebody out there
Just like me
I'm complicated'

 

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