Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Missing ❯ Chapter 15 ( Chapter 15 )

Missing - 15

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DISCLAIMER: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. I'm simply obsessed with it. Don't sue me, because I'm broke. The only things I own are Dark Magician and Malik toys. /end boring legal junk

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I swear I'm 12… I write YGO fic now. That's what I get from watching anime. *very big grin* This story was written for my best friend, who challenged me to write her a fic using certain people and a certain plot and well. Blame her. It's all Kris' fault.

SUMMARY: Marik, Bakura, and a Rod. Wonder what happens next?

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"We're alone now and you're all mine!"

"Get your hands off of me, you blond freak," Bakura snapped, pushing Marik's arm away. "Look, but don't touch."

"Come now, Bakura... is that any way to talk to me?"

"I can talk to you however I damn well please."

"Even if that means you'll be stuck in here forever?"

Bakura blinked. "What?"

"You heard me."

Bakura's voice was dark with fury, but Marik didn't even bat an eyelash. "You mean you know a way of getting me out of here without using that re-binding spell?"

"May-be," Marik sing-songed, carelessly cleaning under his fingernails with the dagger end of the Millennium Rod. "But if you're mean to me again, I won't tell you if I do."

"Fine, fine, I'll be nice." Bakura nearly choked on the word. "Now what do you want?"

"You know what I want, my dear Bakura."

"You can't be serious."

Marik just smiled and sheathed the Rod in his pants (now didn't THAT sound wrong?), losing all semblance of insanity. "When am I not? You, of all people, should know me better than that."

"I am not... doing that... with you! Not here."

"Do you really have a choice?"

"Guess not." Bakura eyed Marik a little nervously. "You'd really make me do this?"

"Do you want out of the Rod or not?"

Bakura smiled a little wryly. "Maybe if Malik..."

"You leave my light out of this," Marik snapped, raising his arm threateningly. "If you're not ready in thirty seconds, I'm leaving you here. You know I have the power to send you to the Shadow Realm for good, and you also know that I have no qualms about doing so."

"Oh, big word." Bakura mocked as he removed his shirt. "Qualms... you've been spending time with Ryou."

"Yes, speaking of lights..." Marik leered. "I wonder what yours would say if he saw this?"

"You leave HIM out of this." Bakura tossed his shoe at Marik's head, narrowly missing the blond. "Ground rule: You leave Ryou alone, I leave Malik alone. Agreed?"

Marik shrugged, unconcerned. "Whatever. I'm getting what I want out of the deal in the end, so what does it matter what we decide in between?"

"So if I do this... thing."

"Say it."

"No."

"Say it or I won't help you."

"I just don't understand why I have to be naked while you do this." The other shoe came off, followed by the pants. Marik's eyes gleamed while Bakura stood before him in only boxers. "I am not taking these off."

"Do it."

"No."

"Then I leave you here." Marik began to fade and Bakura let out a cry that he just *knew* he would be taunted about later. But he hated the dark, and he hated being left alone even more.

"NO! Okay, okay, I'll do it. Just please don't leave me alone in here." He was begging and he didn't really care. He *hated* the Shadow Realm - spending 5,000 years there was enough torture for one life. Or one afterlife, whichever he was currently... living.

"Off with the boxers, Bakura... you know our deal."

"You're evil."

"Your point being?"

"I'm supposed to be the evil one," Bakura grumbled, throwing his discarded boxers in Marik's general direction, "so you're making me look bad."

"Whatever. Just shut up and come here."

Wordlessly, Bakura obeyed, closing his eyes when he felt the first touch of Marik's hands on his now-bare skin. Fabric whispered around his legs and something cold encircled his arms, and still he refused to open his eyes. Finally, Marik stepped away, satisfied whatever he'd done to Bakura.

"You can open your eyes, you know. I won't touch you."

Bakura opened his eyes, meeting Marik's lavender ones before glancing down at himself. "How..."

"My soul room. I can make anything happen," Marik said simply. "Now stand still."

"But I look like..."

"Like an Ancient Egyptian, yes, I know." The blond smiled. "I like you when you look like this."

"You like me all the time, Marik. You've just been looking for an excuse to make me dress up like an idiot."

"Don't insult the way you used to dress. Now, fix your armband and STAND STILL."

"Yes, Master Marik," Bakura said sarcastically, groaning when an artist's easel appeared out of nowhere. "Painting? Marik, since when you do PAINT?"

"Since now so shut up and let me work. The quieter you are, the faster you get out of here."

"Oh, incentive."

"Bakura!"

"Sorry." Bakura shut his mouth and tried not to think of how stupid he looked. And felt. Marik had been after him for weeks to `play dress-up' but Bakura had always managed to halt his advances. Even the best had to be caught sometime, it appeared. The time Bakura spent modeling was broken only by soft commands from Marik to turn this way or that way. Finally, he appeared to be done and Bakura breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could get back into his normal clothes!

"Get dressed," Marik commanded, eyeing his finished product with an uncertain eye. "I have what I need from you."

"And what's that?"

"Blackmail!" Cackling, Marik made the painting disappear before Bakura could even get a look at it. "Now, a promise is a promise..."

"Get me out of here. Immediately."

"I am a man of my word."

"No, you're not, but get on with it."

"Patience is a virtue."

"Not right NOW it isn't!"

"Fine." Marik rolled his eyes and held up his Millennium Rod. "I make good on my promises, Bakura. Next stop, Ryou's bedroom!"

The dark world began to fade-if that was even possible-and Bakura let out a shriek. "MARIK!"