Title: You Know I'm No Good

Summary: Malik's been cheating, so what's Ryou to do? SongFic Pairings: RyouxMalik (and vise versa), MarikxMalik and some really slight BakuraxMalik

Disclaimer: I don't own the character's of Yu-Gi-Oh (Marik does, they're his bitches). And I don't own the song either. In case anybody cares it's "You Know I'm No Good" by Amy Winehouse.

Warnings: Yaoi and adultery, I think that's the worst of it. Possibly some light vulgarity.

Notes: Do me a favor guys and actually read the lyrics that go along with the story. I didn't put them in there for my health. I put them in there to help you guys (as the readers) get the story easier. The lyrics are the stuff in italics and they also act as a break in time... Please enjoy it peoples.

Meet you downstairs in the bar and heard
Your rolled up sleeves and your skull t-shirt
You say why did you do it with him today?
And sniff me out like I was Tanqueray

Bakura's name flashed across the LCD screen on Malik's phone. He swore softly, glancing into the adjoining room to make sure Ryou was still absorbed in his book.

Seeing that his lover was safely sealed away in the world of fiction, Malik rushed off to the privacy of the bathroom to listen to the message. It was simply Bakura, asking to meet him for drinks.

Conflicting emotions shimmered across the surface of Malik's warring mind. Drinks? He didn't know whether to feel disappointed that that's all Bakura wanted with him. To be disgusted with the fact that he was disappointed. Or whether or not he should just take the candy lane of denial and claim that drinks were just about as plutonic and friendly as two people could get.

With confusion still rolling through his mind, Malik retrieved a tube of shimmering lip gloss from his make up pouch and liberally applied it. As he went to put it back inside the pouch for safe keeping, he thought better of it and just opted to slip it in his pocket for later use. He then carefully applied some eye liner and smacked his lips once more before slipping his phone into his pocket and fairly gliding from the bathroom.

"Ryou-chan, I've got to go out." he said sweetly, carefully gauging Ryou's reaction for any sign of distrust or wariness. When he saw none, Malik's grin widened to a full out smile. He dazzled Ryou with his as the white haired youth looked up briefly from his reading material. "I'll be back soon, though, promise."

Malik kissed his boyfriend on the cheek, but made sure not to smudge his lip gloss too badly before flitting out of the room.

Cause you're my fella, my guy
Hand me your stella and fly
By the time I'm out the door
You tear men down like Roger Moore

A row of empty shot glasses had formed long ago in front of Malik's bar stool. He had merely continued to add to it as the night dragged on. His spiky blond hair was drooping with the humidity of the club, and his lavender eyes were veiled with a mist of liquor induced stupor. He pictured that he looked a mess and couldn't for the fuck of him figure out why Bakura was still seated next to him, drinking like a fish and flattering him to no end - but now that he thought of it, maybe there was some correlation between those two activities -.

Malik combed his drooping bangs from his forehead and turned to Bakura, flashing him a million-watt grin which he was quickly becoming infamous for. He giggled coquettishly and placed a hand on Bakura's forearm, stroking it with his slender digits.

The rogue-ish albino's grin went crooked and look in his eyes was replaced with something other than good humor, something a bit more primal, and a lot more sexual. Malik just couldn't find the will to tear himself away, that is, until he felt another pair of arms curl loosely around his waist.

Bakura's grin morphed once more, this time into a smirk. Malik turned within the circle of arms, already having realized to whom they belonged.

"Ryou!" Malik made a move to give his boyfriend a quick peck on the lips, but Ryou turned his head at the last second, so Malik's lips only collided with the impossibly, baby soft skin of his cheek. "What's wrong?" he asked coyly upon pulling away. He was about to repeat the question again when Ryou didn't even bat an eye, but upon truly looking at his boyfriend, he realized how rigid and tense his posture was. He looked... angry.

"You tell me." He said in a tight voice, looking past Malik and to Bakura who was merely leaning against the bar and looked as though he was enjoying the spectacle of the rare beast that few ever truly witnessed in all it's glory; Ryou's jealous anger.

And if looks could kill, Bakura would have been dead, a thousand times over.

But in realizing the perverse enjoyment the other must have been getting out of the show, Ryou took Malik's hand firmly in his own, and pulled him off to a secluded part of the club. "What the hell are you doing here? Never mind, I know what you're doing here. What I want to know it why you're doing it!"

Malik averted his eyes.

I cheated myself
Like I knew I would
I told ya, I was trouble
You know that I'm no good

Malik wove back through the clumps and clusters of people that frequented this type of establishment. The shirts were low cut, skirts were practically none existent and pants were so tight that it was amazing they didn't cut off anyone's circulation. Every where bodies were sweating, grinding and gyrating against each other. It was like sex, with clothes on and Malik couldn't help but be lulled into the crush. He loved the rush he got as the bodies rubbed up against him as he passed them by and he loved the admiring looks he received from random dancers, male and female alike.

He knew instinctively, without looking behind him, that Ryou wasn't following. He had asked Malik to come home with him, before he did something he'd regret in the morning, before he did something very, very, stupid. But Malik had refused. He hated that sad, downtrodden look in Ryou's eyes, but he just wasn't ready to go home yet. And just because he wanted to stay out late, didn't automatically mean that his good judgment would go out the window.

As he neared the spot at the bar where he'd left Bakura, he saw that the rugged albino had found another drinking mate. But as he got closer, and closer, he realized that he recognized that pointy blond mane... Marik.

He covered up Marik's eyes with his sweaty palms as he arrived back at their stretch bar. "Guess who?" he whispered in the sultriest whisper he could muster.

"That's a hard one." Marik complained, "I guess I'll need another hint, something more telling than just a whisper." With that, Marik swiveled on his stool, catching Malik up at the ankle and toppling him straight into the larger blond's lap.

Marik kept his eyes closed as he proceeded to feel Malik up. Big hands roamed over the petite's blonde's hips, his torso and his rear end. Finally, leaving one hand behind to cup Malik's ass, Marik brought the other hand up to brush a few fingers across the smaller's trembling lips.

Malik's cheeks' flushed red, not with embarrassment, but with arousal; which was soon to change as another voice sounded behind him.

"Good to see you've been able to hold on to that spectacular judgment, Malik." Ryou said dryly.

"Don't worry Ryou," Bakura cajoled, getting to his feet and holding out his arms as if to fold Ryou's smaller frame into a hug. "There's enough love here to go around."

Barely concealing his look of distaste, Ryou shoved him backwards.

Both Marik and Bakura chuckled then, a deep rumble from the recesses of their deep throats. "Have it your way." said Bakura, shrugging and slumping back down to his stool.

"Don't worry ikle Ryou-chan, we'll have Malik back to you safe and sound… eventually." Marik said in a throaty voice that made his miniature shiver.

Ryou tossed one last pleading look at his boyfriend, though Malik didn't even seem to register it. With that, Ryou threw up his barriers once more and just turned on his heels and left.

Upstairs in bed, with my ex boy,
He's in the place, but I can't get joy,
Thinking on you in the final throws,
This is when my buzzer goes

Marik's burning hot mouth closed around Malik's hardened length. He bucked up against the big hands that bruised his hips in an attempt to keep him still as that amazing mouth continued to pleasure him.

"Marik." he breathed out the name on a series of sighs and pants, saying that name as if it were his mantra. "Marik, Marik, Marik..."

Lavender eyes slipped closed, and suddenly it was no longer Marik licking him as though his cock was sweetest lollipop in the world. "Ryou." he sighed out his boyfriend's name as an image of the petit, albino, young man flashed through his mind. It was a position the two often found themselves in. Malik imagined Ryou kneeling at his feet and looking up at him with those huge, doe-brown eyes, sucking as if his life depended on it, but still never breaking the intense connection of their mutual gaze.

And with that, Malik came, pulling at the spikes of Marik's blond hair, but instead imagining the two spikes of silky, snow white hair that Malik used as reins so often, that they now just stood up on their own.

Marik drank down every drop and came to his feet still licking his lips. The larger then pushed Malik down to his knees and forced his length into his face. Malik lapped at it eagerly, knowing that his own salvia left on the other's manhood would be the only lubrication he got when it came time to do the deed.

Run out to meet your chips and pita
You say when we married cause you're not bitter
There'll be none of him no more
I cried for you on the kitchen floor

Some where off in the distance, an annoying ringing sounded, brining Malik back to the land of the living.

He swore generously as he scrounged through the mound of covers surrounding him in search of the offending piece of electronic shit that had disturbed his sleep, and all without cracking open an eye. Eventually his hands closed around the sleek, singing body of a cell phone.

He flipped it open, "Hello."

On the other end his was greeted with only peels of laughter.

"What do you want Bakura?" He would recognize that mean hearted snicker anywhere.

After several moments, the laughter slowed to the occasional burst of something akin to giggles.

"If you don't cut it out, I'm hanging up the fucking phone. Get to the point, Bakura!"

"Alright, I just have one quick question."

"Okay…" Malik said slowly, unsure of what to expect.

After another quick spurt of laughter, Bakura finally asked; "Why are you answering Marik's phone?" With that, the other end of the line went dead and Malik's eyes flew open.

Marik lay sprawled on the opposite side of the bed. His covers concealed nothing; especially not the white stain of cum which was fanned out across his abdomen. "Ah, fuck!" he practically screamed before moving to get out of bed, but since his legs were tangled in the covers, he ended up falling on his face.

He stood up, but once more fell to the floor, this time on purpose and began to root through the piles, upon piles of clothing that littered the floor; Marik wasn't the best of house keepers. He was searching for what he'd been wearing the previous evening, but truth be told, he couldn't remember.

Glancing up at the clock, he swore once more. It was a quarter past nine, Ryou would be up and about by that time, there was no chance he could just slip in unnoticed and pretend he'd been there all night long.

"Why the rush lover?"

Malik looked up to see Marik leering at him from over the corner of the bed. "Where the hell are my clothes?" He asked, on the verge of panic.

"I dunno, I guess you'll just have to stick around if they've gone missing. Can't have you prancing around in the buff, as enjoyable as that might be."

"You wish." Malik spat, rushing over to Marik's wardrobe and pulling on some random clothes that were much too large for him.

Marik sat up in bed. "Really though, what's the rush?"

Malik shot him a look of contempt, "Ryou's the rush, and you know it." and with that, Malik fled the apartment.

I cheated myself
Like I knew I would
I told ya, I was trouble
You know that I'm no good

As he ran home, he tried to forget how great Marik had looked with only a sheet to cover him, all tousled and complete with bedroom eyes. 'Bad Malik', he scolded himself as he entered the loft he shared with Ryou.

"Ryou! Ryou, are you home?"

"In the kitchen." His boyfriend called.

Malik walked in to find Ryou sitting at the table, the morning paper was scattered all around him and a dirty plate and fork were by his place.

The young man hardly looked up; he merely folded the paper with a loud and very deliberate snap. He then rose from his seat, pushed it in and brought his dishes to the sink. "Would you like some orange juice?"

Nodding dumbly, Malik slumped against the kitchen counter as Ryou handed him a cup of juice.

"Got to keep your fluid up." Ryou commented without an ounce of emotion. "Oh and koi? Nice outfit. It suits you." With that he leant over and gave Malik the coolest kiss on the cheek the blond had ever received. It was if there was no feeling behind it at all, not even feelings of contempt. It was as if it were simply a perfunctory display of scheduled affection... A habit.

But without another word, still a strange sort of smile, Ryou calmly exited the room and as the swinging door closed behind him, Malik's legs gave out and he slumped to the floor. The orange juice spilled across the pristine linoleum, as he'd forgotten he was holding a cup and just let go.

Ryou surely hated him, he must. And yet… The other had never acted so cold to him, so distant. It seemed so... Final and so uncaring. With that last sentiment, tears began to trek down Malik's fine features.

Sweet reunion, Jamaica and Spain
We're like how we were again
I'm in the tub you on the seat
Lick your lips as I soak my feet

Ryou stood by the bathroom mirror, a razor one hand and shaving cream in the other. Meanwhile, Malik lounged in the tub only a few feet away, nursing a drink and idly popping the soap bubbles.

"Why do you even bother?" Malik asked his voice cutting through their comfortable silence like a knife through butter. They had left all awkwardness behind. It just took too much energy and each had decided that said energy could be better spent.

"With?"

"Several things, but at this particular moment? I'm wondering why you bother with shaving." Malik asked; his coy nature began to show through the more alcohol he consumed.

Ryou turned to him with a grin, looking like a skinnier version of Santa Clause with a beard made of shaving cream. He trekked to the tub and flicked some of the suds towards Malik, but went back to the sink before the other had a chance to retaliate. "Would you like a hairy boyfriend?"

Malik hid a laugh behind his hand. "Sweetheart, you wouldn't get hairy. At the very most, you'd get peach fuzz and I'd probably find that to be pretty adorable."

Sticking his tongue out at Malik briefly, Ryou continued to run the razor across his cheeks until he was satisfied.

Upon completion of his task, he looked towards Malik and flushed red. Then in a very telltale sign he adjusted his boxer. However, Malik had caught the gesture and after a few minutes of cajoling, he allowed Malik to pull him into the bath, for a short time. The two played, washing each other's hair and back and splashing about until the water grew cold around them.

With that, Ryou dragged himself from the tub and retrieved a towel, He then helped Malik out and into a fleecy, sky blue towel, and held onto Malik's hand longer than it was truly necessary.

Then you notice lickle carpet burn
My stomach drop and my guts churn
You shrug and it's the worst
Who truly stuck the knife in first

The two chased each other down the halls to the bedroom, tracking water with them the entire way. And though Malik might have won the initial race, Ryou came up close behind him.

His small, gently hands touched and fluttered across the mural of Malik's back. He kissed each mark and his fingers traveled to the other side of his body, simultaneously rubbing circles around his sensitive, caramel colored nipples.

Spinning Malik around, he caught the blond off guard - much like Marik had the previous evening - and was able to push him back towards the bed. Ryou pressed a soft kiss to the blond's lips as he spread both legs, revealing Little Malik standing at attention amid a nest of soft blonde curls.

Ryou smiled, but really it turned out looking less like a smile and more like one of Bakura's signature leers - not that Malik minded -. The young albino's hand wrapped around Malik's already weeping length and pumped it at a torturously slow pace.

Malik's head lolled back and his eyelids fluttered as well. He began moving his hips at the same pace and blindly groping for Ryou' length to return the favor. But each time he came closer the treasure, Ryou would bat his hand away and kiss him once more.

Their kisses tasted of cheap bourbon and gin. Two things that probably shouldn't be mixed in a glass, but as their tongues tangled, neither one was thinking about such things.

Taking a step back, Ryou lifted up Malik's legs and bent them at the knee. Malik hissed, it was an involuntary sound, but it was too late. Ryou's gaze was already roving his body, not with lust, but with a shadow of concern and a single minded determination to find the source of Malik's discomfort. It didn't take long. His doe eyes fell on Malik's bent knees and the rug burns that marred the sensitive skin there.

He frowned as Malik attempted to come up with some sort of explanation, but was cut short by the ring of a phone.

"Marik!" the blond cried into the phone, alerting Ryou who the person on the other end of the phone conversation was and also giving some very telling hints as to what had resulted in the carpet burns, and at whose expense. He watched Ryou for some sort of reaction. Hoping for atleast some flash of anger or jealously or... anything.

But Ryou gave nothing away, he simply shrugged his shoulders in such a bland, indifferent gesture that Malik felt his heart drop into his stomach.

The blond swore beneath his breath as Ryou stepped back into the door way and leant on the frame with his arms folded, for all intents and purposes it seemed a very un-Ryou-like pose, but Malik didn't get a chance to say anything about it, for Marik's voice filled the ear piece once more.

Marik was saying something about his clothes, about how he should drop by later to get them. Vaguely he knew he was agreeing. But he wasn't really paying attention.

He was watching Ryou and the way the emotions seemed to shut down one by one until his pale features were completely blank. He wanted to go to him and coax him out of this shell. At the moment, it really seemed like a loose/loose situation. Either he went to Marik and lost Ryou, or he stayed with Ryou, and still lost him in every important way.

However, Ryou loosened the burden. While Malik was still on the phone and rubbing at the rug burns on his knees, the albino young man simply turned, and strode from the apartment.

As the front door closed Malik turned off the phone while Marik still in the middle of a word and set it down slowly on the bed spread. With that he slumped once more to the floor, but this time there were no tears.

I cheated myself like I knew I would
I told ya I was trouble, you know that I'm no good
I cheated myself, like I knew I would
I told ya I was trouble, yeah ya know that I'm no good

End Notes: This song kind of sucks for the MalikxRyou pairing, but I heard it and the idea for this fic slammed into me and since it was one of the only story ideas that I've really had the will to carry to the end in months, I went with it. If you get the lyrics, you might realize how crappy the song really is, the message isn't really warm and fuzzy. But anywho, do me a favor and tell me what you think. This is the most writing I've done in one sitting for several months and I want to know where I can improves (translation: be kind to the authoress and review). :3