Gandalf: Aloha boys and girls!

God the Grand (e): Yes, today's lunch menu consists of a fluffy little Malik/Marik one-shot; even know I have other stories that are just dying to be updated!

Grim Reaper: No kidding… Marik=Yami, and Malik=Hikari!

Gandalf: We do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, but we do enjoy drinking C2!

Greebo the Dragon: Coke with half the carbs baybay!

God: Erm, on with the show!

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Malik rolled his lilac orbs. His Yami Marik was getting on his nerves… again.

"Malik, Malik! Come see what I did!" Marik exclaimed flailing his arms about from behind the slate blue sofa Malik was relaxing on.

"Ra, what is it Marik? What'd you do, flush the toilet?" Malik retorted, smacking his forehead in anxiety.

"No silly! I made something; Marik made something especially for you!" Marik wailed, jumping up and down. Malik sat there, mute.

"Malik?" Nothing happened.

"MAL!" Marik hollered, poking the teen.

"Gah! What could you have possibly done Marik? Color me a picture?" Malik countered, turning around and glaring at his spiky haired look-a-like.

"No! Come see!" Marik dragged Malik off the couch and down the hallway to the bedroom the two shared.

"Ok, now what Marik?" Malik asked mundanely, glancing around the room. Marik grinned and ran over to a gray nightstand, picking up a clothing item. He held it up by the shoulders and smiled.

"Look!" Malik blinked, and rubbed his eyes. What Marik held up was a sweater; A hand made, knitted black and silver sweater with the word 'Malik' sewn on in big silver lettering.

"Here!" Marik said, handing the shorter teen the sweater.

"Marik… did, did you make this all by yourself?" Malik asked in a hushed tone, peering at the sweater, then back at Marik. Marik nodded proudly.

"Ever since I saw Isis making the aflack, I wondered how to knit and she showed Bakura and me how!" He informed. Malik giggled softly.

"It's an afghan, Marik… and why does Bakura knit?"

"Because Ryou Hikari made him get a hobby and Bakura threw the chessboard in the fire place when Ryou beat him." Malik snickered. That definitely sounded like Bakura…

"Bakura isn't good like Marik is though, Isis says. Bakura made Ryou a white scarf; it looks like a tattered piece of garbage… Bakura said Ryou seemed happy with it though…" Marik added with a small shrug. That was definitely like Ryou; to lie to his darker and say the scarf looked beautifully made. Ryou said that was what love was, pretending to love something someone you were fond of gave you, even if it was hideous. And Malik supposed it made sense, Ryou was gaga for Bakura, Bakura didn't seem to notice though, or did he? It didn't really matter. After all, here was Marik with a sweater, made especially for him.

"So, does Malik like it?" Marik asked in a slightly worried tone. Malik looked down at the sweater.

"Yes, it's lovely Marik… but why did you make it for me?" He asked, confused, "I am always so impatient with you, and mean…"

Marik chuckled. "Marik gets annoying, Marik knows he does. Malik notices to and calls him on it. When Marik hears, Marik tries to stop, but Marik doesn't really know how… I made you the sweater because I wanted to. Isis says you give things to those who you love. Marik gets tingly feelings when he's around Malik. Isis says it means you're in love. Marik loves Malik. I love you." Marik said happily, looking into the depths of Malik's eyes for an answer. Malik gasped and threw a hand over his mouth. Marik loved him?

"Does cuddly Malik love Marik too?" Malik thought about it. 'I love how he makes me feel safe when his arms are wrapped around me; I love how childish he can be, even if he's annoying… I love when he speaks in third person, and how he looks… But most of all, I love how he understands me better than anyone else in the world… I think I…' Malik smiled and wrapped his arms around Marik.

"Cuddly Malik does love annoying Marik." He cooed in the darker side's ear. Marik grinned and encircled his arms around Malik's slim waist.

"So when will Malik wear sweater?"

"…Uh… we need to discuss fashion of today later…" Malik said, lifting his head up to meet Marik's hazy jagged orbs. He ran a hand over Malik's cheek.

"You're so sweet Malik, so radiant and pretty…you and your soft skin." Malik felt a blush rising to his cheeks.

"Thank you Marik." He whispered, leaning in to the gentle touch. Marik tilted his head and closed the space between them, pressing his lips lightly to Malik's. Malik mewled and gave in, kissing passionately. As the kiss deepened, Malik ran a finger down Marik's neck, causing the teen to shiver.

Suddenly, someone barged into the room, causing the door to slam against the wall.

"HOW COME RYOU DIDN'T DO THAT WHEN I GAVE HIM HIS FUCKING SCARF!" The raging ball of fire or Bakura roared, shaking the fist holding the tangled, dismantled, stringy discolored bundle of yarn in his hand.

Marik and Malik glanced at the seething spirit, scarf and all, then back at each other. They burst out laughing.

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God the Grand (e): And that concludes it!

Gandalf: Aw, poor Bakura… he didn't get any suga from the Ry fluff.

Greebo the Dragon: A word of advice for Bakura; If you're having Ryou problems I feel bad for you son, I got ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one!

God: -sweatdrop- Uh.. Somehow I don't think that helps…

Gandalf: Yes… anyways, so what'd ya'll think of it? Review and do tell!

God: Yes! Erm… if you really want us to, we can even write a second part about Bakura's problem!

Grim Reaper: Yes because God and I love any excuse to write BakuraxRyou fluff!

God: Yes! Welp, later days!

Gandalf: And aloha!