Author's note: Hi, everyone. :D It's been a bit of a break for me, with the end of school and all, but it's summer, now, which means a helluva lot more time to write. :3 So, to start off the holidays, I thought I'd post a new Citron fic to pay homage to both my beloved mother (Dawn), and the ship itself. XD; It has no love.

Pairing: Thief King Bakura x Malik Ishtar (Citronshipping).

Disclaimer: Don't own Yuugiou, Baku or Malik (luckily for you).

Warnings: Adult themes, implied sex, language.



We practice love between these sheets
The candy sweetness scent of you
It bathes my skin; I'm stained by you
And all I have to do is hold you

"Trust me."

Asking him to trust me seems to startle him. He gazes at me evenly, his moonstruck eyes ever cautious and calculating. He's sizing me up; I've never given him reason to trust me.

Scars are all there is to him and I. Biting insults are hissed and growled back and forth, but then he'll capture my lips fiercely. More often than not, I believe this to shut me up so he can have his way with me. I can't protest; I can't draw away.

"Trust me," I whisper against his lips, before grazing my own against his lightly. He doesn't react at first; he's still deciding whether or not I'm trying to play mind games, sharp eyes searching mine.

Strange, since it's usually the opposite way around; he fools and toys with me, as though I'm just another jewel in his collection of rare and beautiful things.

'Beautiful'. As of late, it's become my nickname-of-sorts. I only laugh darkly, again and again, without having to say anything – words aren't needed between us. His body is his communication, and I am on the other end of the conversation.

I fell hard. I know; he knows - he uses this against me.

"You're no more trustworthy than myself, Malik," he hisses back, pushing me into the bed. I smirk up at him, arms coiling around his neck. I don't mind when he plays rough, as long as he permits me to return the favour. "That leaves you with little to present yourself with."

Head tilted against the pillow, I slowly trace patterns on the nape of his neck, and I can feel him shiver. He's animalistic; he's irritable; he's determined to kill what's left of an age-old Egyptian empire.

Our goals are one and the same.

"Will you ever just be mine?" I breathe, finding it difficult to make out the change in his facial expression due to the sheer darkness of the night. "I'm growing tired of waiting…"

"What I must accomplish is my business alone, Malik." He kisses me aggressively, stealing my breath before he draws back, eyes burning into mine despite the darkness between us. I inhale sharply; I can't seem to tear my eyes away, despite what I know what lies ahead – for him; for us. "Stay by my side, or remain my enemy." That said, he lunges for my lips, attacking them heatedly without waiting for my answer.

Before I even know what I'm doing, I'm responding feverishly to his touch; wanting, needing. I'm responding to the kiss, our tongues clashing for dominance as though we're the last two domineering people on earth.

In a way, we are.

His hands are sliding up and down my marred back, but I know he understands. We both understand what it means to have scars, and to bear them for all others to see. Not a sign of weakness, but of strength, as he has so harshly drilled into my mind.

His hair is like silk between my fingers, woven like a spider's web of devious silver; to an outside perspective, we must look like one person. Bronzed skin colliding with tanned, silver flashing against gold. Oftentimes, it feels as though we aren't separate entities, but the same being; I'll smirk, and he'll grin wickedly. I frown and he scowls. I hiss and he growls right back.

He's beautiful, beautiful; so bitterly beautiful, I think to myself, moaning teasingly against his lips. He can read my thoughts; his hands roam down my sweat-slicked body, pressing me up into him. Every place seems to fit; our mouths are melded to one another, our hips twist and grind together, and my pounding heartbeat against his is synchronized.

He pulls away for the briefest of moments, the hunger in his eyes utterly insatiable and carnal. "You belong to me."

"Then you belong to me," I counter breathlessly, eyes narrowed, though my expression is playful. In return, he smirks and takes a hold of my hips, rolling onto his back swiftly, me atop him.

"I'll trust you this once, tomb keeper."

I can't help a smug smirk as I gaze down at him, feeling quite victorious. "I'll hold you to that, tomb robber," I purr, before viciously claiming his lips in a kiss that causes him to arch up into me with a low, pleased hiss.

Craving another person is pure insanity.

You know, I was insane before I met him.


A/N: End:D This fic isn't for a challenge or anything (gasp); just something I felt needed to be written for a dear, dear friend. -loves- And the fact the lyrics are Darren Hayes' have nothing to do with it. ;D -bricked-

But, yes! XD; Any reviews are greatly appreciated, and encourage me to get off my lazy butt and write. :3