Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Love Is? ❯ Love Is? ( Chapter 1 )

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Smiles are funny things, silly twitches of the mouth that spell out more than words alone can tell. Tears are just as strange, quivering and dancing down cheeks, shared between both joy and sorrow, and in some remarkably powerful moments, rage as well. Mortals constantly did such things and many more things that he didn't understand, whether it was plea forgiveness, convey guilt, or enact anger, no matter what they did, the silly mortals still turned around and stated they did something else. These confused him, the cross of emotion and expression, because sometimes what was said was not expressed, and sometimes what was expressed was not said, and sometimes… Sometimes they matched and he still didn't understand, what with so many previous misinterpretations no one could or should blame him for the disregard he graced in hopes of not being caught -caring-.

 

Shudders tracked up and down his spine like nips of guilt and shame, even though he was well over realizing the concept was not so horrid.

 

Caring.

 

Just a word, but it had once crippled his mind in ways he had yet to comprehend. Making him tremble from the inside out so he felt weak and dizzy with confusion and blind rage, and he had felt and lived like that until-

 

“What are you doing, love?”

 

No smile brushed itself across his face, no mirthful exclamation bubbled up his throat, and certainly no other outwardly physical movement was made as he lifted his curious gaze from the picture he was holding to look at the man who had interrupted his vacant thoughts to address him. He expressed nothing of what he felt; nothing of what he knew was there.

 

But he felt it. Heard it. Tasted it drum up his throat and fill his mind with a heady mix of emotions he -still- wasn't used to.

 

They both did.

 

“Oh, you're looking at that again.” Laughter, soft and pretty as spring rain filled the room and hummed around them as the other man smiled and sat beside him, a knee tucked beneath the slender body while he lazily leaned against the arch of the sofa, strewn like a cat while elegant fingers twirled amongst the gold hair of his lover. “I should make copies, you're beginning to wear it out at the corners.”

 

“Can you?” His voice bordered on harsh and cold, bitten with vile thoughts and emotions, but the genuine curiosity akin to his childish age masked the steely hardness he constantly felt and reflected. It wasn't his fault he sounded so threatening, he had no choice in the matter, no one demands their existence, no one expects their own birth, but he lived with what he had been created of, hate and pain and the shrieking demands of sorrow that constantly plagued the back of his skull.

 

“Of course, love. I'll make you two copies if you'd like.” Amusement rang in his voice, a pure kind of strength that he was so well admired for by the others, scarlet eyes flashing a softened look of adoration for the blond beside him when Marik nodded airily. “…Why do you like that picture so much?”

 

Violet eyes slanted in curiosity at the royal embodiment beside him, Marik's lips twitching into a smirk that fought to tremble into a smile of sincerity. “Because…”

 

Silly Pharaoh. How does he not know? Ah, but hikari-golden had mentioned that pictures are fabricated of many, many words. Perhaps Pharaoh could not hear the same words Marik did? The words that chanted in his mind and eased away the screams and hunger for death and cold, dark sins to spill free and ravage the light and happiness that disgusted him to no end.

 

Chuckles and a kiss to the jaw were given, Yami smiling as he stroked thin fingers through sun-blond strands of hair blocking his view of the darker, younger spirit beside him. “Only `because'?”

 

Moments like these made him think, mind reeling in too many directions to count, but Marik knew where all his thoughts would end. The kiss was accepted and cherished in the shadowed parts of his soul, placed there in hopes of illuminating the violent churn of nothing and just a spot of-

 

“What do you hear?”

 

Yami blinked to the question, slightly confused smile playing on his lips as he tipped his head questioningly and tucked his other knee beneath himself, hands placed above his thighs as he wriggled to face his lover. “Hear? What do you-” The picture was placed before him, Marik watching him in his usual static fashion, but genuine interest flickered in the dark violet of the Egyptian's eyes. He grasped the picture carefully, because Yami knew just how much Marik cherished this picture, the younger dark would carrying it around in his pocket and stare at the image whenever he could, falling into a trance-like state as the figures on it were scrutinized for something Yami wasn't sure anyone else could see.

 

“What do you hear?... When you look at it, what does the picture say?”

 

Scarlet eyes flicked to the image after granting the Egyptian an understanding smile, Yami cupping the worn picture in both palms as he looked at it, blond brows creasing faintly as he nodded absentmindedly in thought. What did he hear? Riddles were normally not a challenge for the King of Games, and while he was certain the younger yami didn't intend it to be a riddle, the royal spirit pressed his lips together in a thin line as he fought to concentrate and -listen-.

 

“…You're doing it wrong.”

 

“Wha'?” Yami blinked up in confusion, brows cocked in puzzlement before he blinked at the fact Marik was holding the spirit's hands now, drawing the Pharaoh closer to his chest until Yami felt the subtle warmth of Marik's existence brush against his knuckles.

 

“Look at the picture, don't think… And tell me what you hear.”

 

The royal spirit looked almost amusingly confused, but chuckled and smiled all the same while shifting to lean against his lover, a small purr escaping him as he was enveloped by strong arms and placed on the Egyptian's lap. Picture re-cupped between both pairs of their hands, Yami tried again, glancing at the glossy image and letting his thoughts drift where they pleased.

 

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“You?!”

 

Their voices clashed violently in the air, echoing with a harsh ring until the only thing heard was a string of foreign curses and several threats one or the other winced at. They had certainly not been expecting to see one another, especially in such a situation, and so both darks were seemingly fuming and glaring heatedly at one another from across the parking lot while their respective hikaris heard an earful through two different mindlinks.

 

\ Give it a chance, Marik…\

 

\\ A chance?! A Chance!? How am I supposed to give the Re forsaken Pharaoh a fucking -chance-?! I only agreed to this damnable excursion because you said I'd like it, you said I'd like the person, and you said it -wasn't- the Pharaoh! \\

 

\ Shutting up and having your scheduled dinner's a great start. And it's called a blind date, Marik. You will like it, you already like the Pharaoh since I've shared in your wet dreams and know this for a fact, and I've undergone more than a fair share of your lies, so this was payba- \

 

The mindlink was shut furiously, Marik growling under his breath and fisting his dark hands until his knuckles paled enough to seem nearly white. He would pay his hikari-golden back for this in double, perhaps even triple if the Pharaoh didn't pay attention to him at this instant. Although drilling an imaginary hole through the other dark's head was fun too, especially since Yami was still clearly discussing matters with his own hikari, the slightly glazed look in the Pharaoh's eyes making him look high. Marik faintly wondered in amusement if that's what he looked like when he spoke to Malik. Then again, the Egyptian wasn't all too concerned with how he looked because he knew he was gorgeous, and because he certainly couldn't look as pretty as the Pharaoh did, a bright silhouette of darkness against the night, almost glowing from the inside. Marik never understood -why- he was so fascinated with the spirit, and while most of their limited meetings resulted in bickering, silence, or complete ignoring of one another, the Egyptian darkness knew within himself that he enjoyed their chaotic clashes and at times wished for a closer confrontation… Friendly even if the Pharaoh could lighten up.

 

/ You're not mad, are you?... /

 

// I wouldn't say -mad-, Aibou… Shocked, annoyed, testy, and barely understanding, maybe… but not -mad-. //

 

/ …Don't be upset at Malik, or Marik, it was mostly my idea and Malik just agreed. Marik is just as… shocked, as you. But please have dinner with him, Yami? /

 

// I see no reason why I- …Aibou… What was that? //

 

/ Don't act innocent, Yami. I'll play back some more of your fantasies if you'd like, trust me, your mindlink isn't all that strong when you're showering, or- /

 

Another mindlink was shut, Yami not as expressively unsettled by his hikari's action, but rattled all the same. He was guilty of dirty thoughts and teenage hormones, but that wasn't his fault! Not only was this Yuugi's maturing body, but Marik had plagued his mind since they had first met, the more dynamic and obnoxious half of Malik Ishtar being the embodiment of what Yami couldn't allow himself to be for fear of tattering his own reputation. In a way, the spirit imagined living vicariously through Marik, wishing and imagining he could say and do half the things the Egyptian did, and at some point such ideas had led him to more intimate thoughts, ones where violating public property came in pleasurable steps. But this wasn't the time to reminisce, and Yami could feel his body flushing against his will, the spirit grinding his teeth together and taking a deep breath to ward away unnecessary embarrassment. Glancing up once he figured most of his blush had subsided, the Pharaoh blinked in surprise when he was face to face with Marik, Yami nearly yelping as he took a rather un-regal step backwards.

 

Marik merely smirked and raised a brow, deciding that perhaps the evening wasn't all that ruined as he had suspected, after all, Yami seemed more skittish than usual, which was always fun, plus his stomach was ravenous and making itself distinctly known with threatening growls. “I'm going to eat, whether or not you follow me and dine as well is your choice, Pharaoh, but the food's already paid for.” The gravelly voice remained in an angry tone, a constant pitch that only Malik seemed accustomed to, dark lips stretching into a sharper smirk that looked nearly painful when the shorter yami merely nodded and tried to hide a slow swallow, following in Marik's footsteps as they entered the restaurant and were seated.

 

They didn't speak much at first, to each other at least, but they ordered and sat in silence, broken only to ask for something or another from their flirtatious waitress, who earned herself no tip when she insinuated the two `friends' would be more than welcome to stay after hours with her.

 

“Gah, -females-.” Marik ranted with a dangerous growl, eyes narrowed as the bouncy waitress retreated from their table after being told off by the Egyptian. He had a high intolerance for women to begin with, but when they flaunted their chests and made general whores of themselves, and in public, Marik found it impossible to keep his mouth shut, though he was generally rather silent as he preferred to brood and mock others mentally or simply between himself and Malik. “And here I thought mortals were bad enough, but no, female mortals are by far the worst, right after children.” He fumed for a moment longer, the threat in his voice dying as he pitched a forkful of his salad into his mouth, surprise evident at hearing a soft chuckle from across the table, gold brows rising at the Pharaoh suspiciously. “What are you giggling about?”

 

“I'm not giggling.” Scarlet eyes frowned for a moment before rolling, wry smirk crossing his lips anyway as he sipped slowly at his coke, lips fiddling with the straw before he continued to speak. “I'm just agreeing with you, surprisingly.” Yami rolled a shoulder, mentally cheering as he found it highly comforting that Marik wasn't interested in the waitress. He had always figured the younger darkness was sexually hungry, as he just seemed the type, and while that would have been fine by the Pharaoh's terms any night, or day, Yami had also thought Marik to be, well… straight. But seeing as how not even once Marik had bothered to look over even a single girl, the Pharaoh almost grinned stupidly as his mind whispered that his fantasies weren't that farfetched after all.

 

“Hn. About time, now if only you saw everything else my way, then maybe I'd like you a lot more.” No, wait. Wasn't that like admitting he liked the Pharaoh already? Marik blinked to himself, never letting on that he had startled himself though as he nibbled on a cucumber, eyes straying from the spirit before him, and pointedly ignoring the clatter of snickers at the back of his mind where his hikari resided at the moment.

 

Yami hid a flush with his bangs as he suckled a large helping of coke for himself, a mild snort escaping him as he spoke between breaths. “I doubt it. Bakura seems to have the same perspective as you, and you still hate him.”

 

“That's different.”

 

“How?” Yami frowned thoughtfully, mouth playing with the straw now as his stomach felt a bit more full than it should since he had slurped up too much of his fizzy drink at once. He had always thought the two other darks would be the closest of friends, not just because they were both deranged and hungry for chaos, but because…

 

No, that was about the only reason.

 

“I like to find common interests in those I choose to like. And Bakura, he's… He's sloppy.”

 

Yami blinked widely, one because he caught on to the fact Marik was admitting he liked, or at least tolerated others, but his curiosity shoved that notion aside a moment, the spirit grinning after a second in question as he tipped his head in an effort to signal the other dark to continue.

 

“I don't like sloppy. He leaves his shit everywhere, have you ever -seen- his room? It's a wasteland.”

 

“Oh, and I suppose you're a neat freak?” When the Egyptian darkness didn't respond with a snide remark to the Pharaoh's sarcasm, Yami had to blink again and straighten in his seat. It was a night of discovery apparently. “No… You?”

 

“What?” Marik snapped, violet eyes narrowed sharply as he crossed his arms, looking away from the spirit indignantly, and was that a trace of hurt in his eyes? “Just because I'm fucking younger than everyone, doesn't mean I am incapable of carrying myself properly. My half of the room is clean, I feed myself when Isis isn't there, and I clean the damn apartment regularly without being asked. Quite an anomaly, no? Well it's the truth, even if no one believes it.”

 

“…I believe you.” Yami's voice was quiet when he broke the unsettling quiet right after the other's snap, eyes averted to his drink once again while he murmured around the straw. “I mean. It's a surprise, I always thought Yuugi and I were the only ones who kept things in order, but I know you're not one to lie.” And it was true, while Marik seemed to remark rather randomly on subject matter no one else could quite grasp, in all the Egyptian's rantings, Marik had never lied to anyone… well, besides his own hikari. “So, I guess that's something else I agree on with you, maintaining neatness.” The Pharaoh tried to chuckle as indifferently as he could, but when he dared to peek up at the other dark, Yami's throat constricted slightly at the unnamable expression on Marik's face and his soft laughter squeaked at the end, the spirit looking horror stricken as he covered his mouth. “Oh Gods, excuse me.”

 

“Baka.” The blond yami smirked and blinked away the thoughts that had fumbled about in his mind, rather disturbing thoughts actually. “Squeaking, eh? Aren't you too old for puberty?” It was easier to let the topic change like this, especially since Marik had felt an uncomfortable whirl inside of himself when Yami had stated he believed the younger darkness. It was a good feeling, but foreign and slightly unsettling, although Marik would be lying were he to wish the feeling away because he didn't like it, because in reality he liked it, really liked it. The way the feeling tumbled within him, flecking his whole body with a security and warmth that was unnatural but pretty. And it made sense suddenly that he should feel such a pretty thing from the very person he considered pretty as well.

 

“Shut up-”

 

The fizzy mess in Yami's tummy had finally churned long enough, rudely interrupting the Pharaoh in the form of a rather disruptive burp, Yami's eyes wide in embarrassment as his cheeks colored brightly. Diving his face to hide against his folded arms, the spirit felt his ears even heat up as several of the neighboring tables made whispered remarks about how disgusting that was, Yami whining silently to himself in shame. Would it be too pitiful to just retreat into the Puzzle?

 

“Oh yeah, like you've never done that? Shut your fat trap, assholes.”

 

Thin brows shooting up to his hairline, Yami temporarily forgot his humiliation as he glanced up at the spirit across from him as Marik… defended him? It was highly unexpected, and while the spirit couldn't find it in himself to complain, Yami was also speechless and felt oddly tingly, happy in a way he hadn't quite ever felt before.

 

“Let's go, Pharaoh. Before the waitress drops her panties at our table again.”

 

Dumbly allowing himself to get tugged along by the elbow, Yami barely had sense enough to grab his jacket before he was led outside, the shiver that tore through him despite being layered making him flinch as he followed the Egyptian down the sidewalk. “…Thanks. You know, for what you said.” Whether or not Marik heard him, the taller yami made no indication as he simply strolled onward, violet eyes hard when he finally stopped and faced the trailing Pharaoh, who nearly walked into his chest at the sudden pause. “What's wrong?” The spirit fought hard not to tremble terribly, though his fingers were numb as they curled into the folds of his jacket, skin tight and raised with goose bumps as he glanced up at the other in faint annoyance for making them stop just as the air was whipping about them.

 

“Do you hate me?”

 

Yami was not prepared for such a question, blood red eyes narrowing suspiciously as he stomped his feet in an effort to move and keep his body from freezing on the spot. What kind of question was that anyway? The Pharaoh knew what he felt toward the other darkness, but besides Yuugi, no one knew and Yami planned on keeping it that way, not because he wanted to, but because Marik didn't seem the type to even -care- if someone was fond of him at a higher level than mere friendship, if even that. “No. I've never hated you-”

 

“Do you like me then?”

 

Again he was startled, Yami's tongue falling limp in his mouth as words failed him. If this was a trick or sick ploy Marik had come up with, the spirit was sure he would skin someone alive, as unlike him as it was, not because he would be upset at being caught right where he didn't wish to be, but because he felt like a complete idiot standing in the cold and being very unprepared for one of his little imaginative storylines to play out.

 

“…Why?” Yami hated how his voice quivered; hoping only that Marik would believe it was the cold getting to the spirit rather than his nerves. After a brief moment of silence made it clear the Egyptian would not be answer, Yami exhaled loudly and figured he had nothing to lose if he simply answered honestly, after all, what were the chances of Marik taking him seriously? This was just another of the younger yami's games, wasn't it?

 

“Fine, you want to know? Here it is. I thought dinner was going to be… I don't know, pointless, but that changed once I saw you were the one there. Sure I was pissed off for a second since you're the last person I expected, but I'm glad it was you I met up with, glad enough that I actually want another date.” And he should have shut up then, but Yami found his chilled lips kept moving, eyes locked on the violet pair before him, silently insisting he go on.

 

“I think this was the most we've ever spoken civilly, and I want more of that. I want to hear you make rude comments to others even when they don't deserve it, just so I can laugh. I want you to tell me what you think about, because I will listen even if no one else will. I want you to defend me again even when I'm the one who did something stupid, because… because it makes me feel good.” The emotion caught in his throat made Yami shake for other reasons now, here he was, spilling his silly plea out into the night air to the very person he didn't want to know all of this, suddenly feeling empowered and fragile all at once. It was a hit or miss chance, a one time opportunity, and for once in his existence Yami wasn't sure enough in himself to confidently move forward, but he did anyway.

 

“So yes, I do like you, Marik. I like you a lot, actually. …And… whether or not you return the feeling, I can live with it. I have so far.”

 

The quiet that followed was deafening, Yami lowering his eyes in more humiliation than he thought he could bear, especially since the taller darkness didn't even seem fazed or aware of the spirit before him any more. Regardless, the sudden rush of Marik's movements made the Pharaoh jerk and prepare himself for a physical attack, body tense and ready to throw a punch or resort to mind-crushing the other, but Yami's eyes went wide as he realized Marik wasn't drawing out the Sennen Rod, or trying to kick his ass for being such a girl. The spirit's breath was lost and hardly missed as his mind caught up to him and shoved him to attention, the mouth pressed against his own finally registered and appreciated when the livid violet eyes that had been reading him for longer than he knew slipped shut.

 

And suddenly, Yami wasn't cold any more.

 

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Yami's lids fluttered, he hadn't realized his eyes had shut and he looked a bit dazed as he blinked around, smiling lightly to the curious look he was receiving from the blond holding him. Offering the picture to his lover, the spirit waited until Marik reclaimed it before wrapping his arms around the Egyptian's neck, pressing a kiss along the tanned skin softly.

 

“What did you hear?”

 

“Us…” The Pharaoh smiled, twisting about in the other's lap until he was straddling the taller dark, fingers threading along the wild spikes of gold that shimmered brightly even as the daylight blinked away with the setting sun. “When we got together…” Marik hadn't changed much in the several months they had been together, but Yami had learned much more about the darkness than he thought the Egyptian hid, and every portion was admired and held sacred in the spirit's eyes because it should. After all, Marik was the embodiment of what Yami could never be. “What do you hear?”

 

“…Your heart.”

 

And that sent a slight shiver throughout Yami, his blood colored eyes flicking to attention as he pressed against the younger spirit gently, mouth worshipping just under Marik's jaw. “…Really?” A coiled purr answered as he nipped a specific spot of the Egyptian's skin, Yami lulling his eyes shut so he could visualize the other darkness and feel his way across the hard body. “What does it sound like?”

 

“…Laughter…”

 

Fingers ghosted along both bodies, neither touching enough, and both craving much more suddenly when Yami found it a grand idea to squirm closer, effectively brushing hips and stirring arousals against each other.

 

“…Smiles…”

 

Each took part in sliding hands and fingers under clothes, coaxing one article and then another off the body before them, quiet murmurs of praise and adoration whispered between nonsense words and breathless moans when skin met skin at last. The flurry of movement that followed made them dizzy in such a good way that they didn't even care when their balance was lost and they fell one atop the other across the sofa.

 

…Happiness…

 

Lips and tongues kissed and tasted the expanse of flesh normally kept from view, shameful displays of affection added between merciless teasing once they flipped about and smirked rather lecherously down at each other. They weren't quite sure who wrapped their lips first over the other's hardening arousal, but the intent and reactions were identical, and they both growled and fought against submission until knees began to tremble and heels dug into the curve of the cushions.

 

…Acceptance…

 

It was Yami who broke his mouth away from the rigid flesh of his lover first, ragged pant of breath taken as he mewled and arched to the touch and darkened heat of Marik's mouth. Thin fingers digging into the flesh and muscle of the Egyptian's thigh elicited a growl and vicious reprimand via a harsh suck of the Pharaoh's erection, Yami crying out and only gripping more tightly, but managing to crane his neck forward to lap at the underbelly of the other dark's pulsing flesh to appease Marik.

 

…Warmth…

 

The air stirred with the scent of sex and sweat, neither lover aware of it terribly though as sparks and feelings of elation made them melt into the other, fingernails scratching lightly over unblemished skin no one else could see or touch or worship as they did. With varying degrees of effort their hips remained relatively still, the unintentional thrust or two that crept up followed by muffled moans or purrs of encouragement that heightened delight and their chaotic senses as both tensed and quivered with the anticipation of not only release, but of tasting the other and knowing full well no one else could reap such euphoria from their lover. Relaxing one hand enough to drag it up the Egyptian's leg, Yami spared a few licks away from Marik's length to coat his fingers with a swirl of saliva and precum cupped under his tongue. A predatory growl rumbled against his chest as he reclaimed his treat while simultaneously skimming his fingers over tanned flesh, Yami smirking around the flesh buried to his throat as he purred and deftly slipped his fingers past the ringed muscles of Marik's entrance, the gruff moan and rock from the body above his own making him shiver pleasantly.

 

…Bliss…

 

The moments were long and perfect, Marik nibbling over the spirit's flush and proud erection, laving the swollen sacs at the base with flat brushes of his tongue while Yami gently thrust a finger or two within the Egyptian's body in return, a thrill racing down his spine each time he managed to make Marik groan around him when he reached just deeply enough. A grunt nearly caused Marik to choke as he felt the sudden wash of heat over his tanned body trigger his climax, time ceasing to exist in that instant as his muscles tightened more with each wave of pleasure that threw itself over him. The Egyptian paused his treatment of the arousal still firmly held in his mouth to catch his breath and revel in the sensation of Yami swallowing what he could, the Pharaoh releasing the softening flesh to mewl anxiously for attention. He received it relatively quickly, though the soft sounds that escaped him only escalated now that his throat was free to vibrate with all the noise it wished to create, which was quite a handful considering Marik now had his mind cleared enough to lavish his lover more thoroughly. Sinful twists of his tongue combined with the pressure his lips encircled the hot flesh with drew out the Pharaoh's pleasure. Guilty as it was to enjoy himself so much while his lover was already done, Yami still moaned and asked for more, bucking desperately as release clawed its way across his body.

 

…Satisfaction…

 

Whether or not the spirit screamed was up for debate, neither were particularly in the right state of mind to tell the difference, but the sudden flood of thick and salty liquid in his mouth made Marik smirk pleasurably, the Egyptian purring and drawing out the Pharaoh's orgasm by suckling until the body beneath him fell limp from its tensed state and sagged against the sofa, moan of thanks whispered against the suddenly all too silent air. Amongst the quiet Marik allowed his lover's length to slip free from his mouth, warm and wet as he kissed the softened skin before crawling off the spirit to turn and face him, obligingly drawn into Yami's open and shaky arms. The two rested there, nestled against one another in a comforting embrace of calming breaths and heartbeats, eyes half shut to the world around them that didn't really matter, and it felt good not to care about anything but each other.

 

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“Pharaoh…”

 

“Mm?” Yami smiled as he set up the camera across from them, flicking on the timer and quickly scrambling back to Marik's side on the sofa, embracing the other darkness almost childishly as he leaned against the taller and wrestled with the warm and wonderful feelings within him.

 

“What is love?”

 

The camera began to twinkle a tiny red light at them, Yami blinking and tipping his face up at the Egyptian in mild amusement. “Love?... Love is…” And he thought about it as hard as he could, given the time frame he was pressed for an answer, but he wanted to respond to Marik as honestly and satisfactorily as he could so they could both smile and present themselves to the camera happily.

 

“Love is…” But it was difficult, especially since the Pharaoh wasn't quite sure whether explaining it would really help. Marik wasn't created to sustain such an emotion, and whether or not the blond yami loved the Pharaoh was an arguable theory, but Yami knew he loved the unstable darkness regardless, and so long as Marik made the effort to know and express what he could, then there was a chance the Egyptian could harness the concept and sew it into his existence. Yami was and would be there to help along the way.

 

The red light began to blink more furiously now, the lens of the camera audibly adjusting to focus on the presented targets.

 

“Love is… Love is this.” Yami smiled and took a hold of both of the younger dark's hands. Entwining one with his own while resting them on Marik's lap, he placed the blonde's other hand over the Pharaoh's chest so Marik could feel the thump of every heartbeat against his palm. A look of wonderment crossed the Egyptian's tanned face while Yami laughed and smiled at the evident comprehension, the moment caught with a click and flash.

 

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