Marik had lost control. And that ate at him more, made him more furious than the tentacals of fear snaking up his spine. Marik had always prided himself on two things-- his lack of fear and his control, which was rivaled by no one. But running through the inky blackness around him, he felt his heartbeat speed up, and his breath become ragged. Even though he had an excellent sense of direction, he'd become disoriented by running with no thoughts but escape. Coming to a halt, he bent and placed his hands on his knees, trying to calm himself down. Then he heard it. A voice called to him from the darkness, seeming to come from far way, yet made him shiver as if it had been whispered in his ear. "Marik..." He stiffened, straightened, tried to see into the darkness, with no success. The call came again, from all around him, making it impossible to pinpoint its origin. Clenching his fists, he focused on locating the owner of the voice. And didn't notice that he was being crept up on until a blur of white, blue and black came hurdling at him out of the shadows, knocking him backwards. His head connected with the ground painfully, and he saw stars before the darkness closed in.

Marik groaned as he came slowly to conciousness. His head was pounding, and as he tried to reach up and feel to see if he was bleeding, or at least the size of the bump he knew was forming, he found he couldn't move his arms more than a few inches. Yanking his arms down, he felt the bite of metal into his wrists. A slight chuckle to his right had him whipping his head in the general direction, but the figure that had made the sound sat shielded in darkness, only the outline giving them away. "Hello Marik..." The voice was soft, almost too low to hear, but it made Marik shiver, and he still couldn't pinpoint who had him captive, completely at their mercy. Marik considered ignoring the person, then cursed himself when the question slipped from his lips before he could think. "What do you want with me?" The person shifted slightly and shook their head. "The question is, what do you want from me?" Marik rattled his shackles and growled. "How about letting me go?" The person laughed again, a little louder this time. "No where's the fun in that?" The figure rose slowly, stepped closer, but not so close that Marik could see who it was. And not knowing who held him captive was infuriating. He struggled savagely against the bonds, making the figure halt, before two strong arms darted out to hold his hands still and the unknown person bent slowly and kissed the captive Marik.

Marik gave a token protest, but the soft lips and seeking tongue were too much to ignore. Before he could think, he was kissing his captor back. Suddenly, the kiss was broken as the person unknown pulled away, both of them breathing raggedly. "Marik..." The word was soft, an almost groan of desire. Marik's green eyes narrowed. The voice was so familiar, he almost knew who had him... Suddenly, a soft shaft of moonlight pierced the darkness, almost if it had been directed to do so. It illuminated a pale face, and soft, white hair. "Bakura!" Marik spat out the name with hatred. Bakura sighed and lifted his eyes heavenward. "Marik?" It was a question that had so many underlying meanings that Marik paused, not knowing to say. "What the hel are you trying to prove?" Bakura closed his eyes, lowered his head and considered the answer. "Showing you what I can't tell you." Marik sneered. "And what's that? That you want to fuck me?" Marik scoffed. "Please." Bakura's answer was a quick step to Marik's side and a resounding slap across the face. Marik lay stunned for a moment, then slowly turned back to face Bakura's silhouette. Murder shone in his eyes as he licked his lower lip, tasting blood. "Bastard." But the curses died on his lips as he caught sight of the tears tracking down Bakura's face. "Marik... I'm so sorry!" And he leaned over his koi again, smooth figertips soothing the reddened skin of his cheek as he claimed Marik's mouth again in a sweet kiss.

The kiss seemed to last forever, but Marik slowly came to realize that Bakura was doing more than kissing him. Slender fingers were seeking under his lightweight black shirt, skimming along his sides, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Marik couldn't help but moan into Bakura's mouth at the amazing feelings. Bakura growled deep in his throat, making Marik shiver in antisipation. Suddenly, Bakura broke away, cursing quietly. Marik gazed at him with eyes hooded by lust. "Bakura?" The white-haired boy rose quickly to his feet, whirling quickly to face the aroused figure on the bed. "No. No, Marik, this is supposed to be done my way!" Marik frowned, then grinned, a quick, feral smile. He shifted, working the hem of his shirt up to expose skin covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Bakura groaned. "Dammit, Marik." Marik tilted his head back, arching his back and moaned seductively. "Win, lose, what does it matter now, Bakura?" Bakura's eyes glittered dangerously, and he shook his head. "It doesn't mean a damn thing."

Slowly, Bakura crawled back onto the bed with Marik. He knew the game now, and pushed aside his inhibitions, nuzzling Marik's thighs through his jeans, laying quick nips to his flat stomach, and working the simple white shirt up until Marik's abdomen was bared. Flashing a quick grin at his captive, Bakura dipped his head and licked one dusky nipple. The effect was one of white lightning, making Marik arch into the older boy and cry out. One of Bakura's hands made soothing circles on Marik's stomach, and the other snaked lower, and as he covered the other boy's body with his own, he claimed Marik's mouth with his own as his hand closed on Marik's growing erection. Marik screamed silently in Bakura at the friction of his jeans and Bakura's stoking hand, and his eyes flew open to stare up into Bakura's. Bakura only smiled and pulled away. "I think that there's too many clothes here." Marik, flushed with pleasure, and still acutely aware of Bakura's hand still resting very close to where he wanted it, could only nod. With that, Bakura began divesting himself and the other Egyptian boy of their restraining garments.

When the two of them were down to only flesh and a slender thread of restraint seperating them, Bakura took a moment to study Marik. His ash blonde hair was spread out around him, making him appear more exotic. His skin was a dark bronze, a color Bakura envied, with his own white hair and pale skin. But it was the differences that made them so suited for one another. Marik grew tired of waiting, and bucked his hips upward in a silent, desperate plea. Bakura grinned at the momentary shift in power, and lowered his head to Marik's flesh. As he took the other in his mouth, Marik threw back his head, moaning and thrashing. Bakura made a noise of annoyance, and held Marik down. Slowly, he licked the underside of Marik's member, teasing with a little scrape of his teeth. Taking advantage of Marik's distraction, he took the time to pause and quickly coat his fingers with his saliva. Then, continuing his assult, he carefully pushed one finger into Marik's tight body. The smaller one clenched his eyes shut and bit back a scream. Bakura lifted his head, surprised to find that tears were leaking out of the corners of Marik's eyes. "Shhhh." Bakura soothed as he curled his finger, searching for a particular spot. When he found it, he knew, becasue Marik writhed and cried out his name. Then he added another finger, then a third. Marik was whimpering at the unfamiliar sensation, half of his in pain, the other half ready for pleasure. Bakura reared up over Marik, placing his free hand at Marik's mouth. Slowly, playfully, Marik sucked his fingers in, running his tongue over the digits, all the time watching Bakura. When his fingers were coated enough, he slicked them along his own hard member, hissing at the contact. Then he removed his other hand from Marik's, replacing it with his hardness, at Marik's entrance. "Are you ready?" Marik looked at Bakura, all defenses broken down, and he nodded with complete trust.

Bakura couldn't help but whimper a little as he pushed his way into Marik's tight body. The smaller boy gasped and truned his head, tears leaking out at the unfamiliar feeling of pain. Bakura kept going, but bent closer to his lover, whispering soothing noises as Marik began to relax, accepting Bakura. When Bakura was fully sheathed, he rocked his hips forward, an unasked question. Marik rolled his hips upward, answering just as silently. Bakura accepted his answer, withdrew and slammed back into his lover.

Marik whimpered as Bakura moved faster, loving the feeling of being submissive for the first time in his life. But when Bakura grabbed him and began pumping in time with his own thrusts, Marik could feel a rainbow of feelings welling up inside. Finally, he couldn't handle it anymore. "Bakura..." At that, Bakura sped up, raking his nails along Marik's member, mixing pleasure with pain. Marik threw his head back, and screamed. "Bakura!" He came, releasing strands of white onto his stomach. Bakura looked down, admiring the view, until Marik's orgasm made him release his own.

Minutes later, the two lay intertwined, sated and content as their heartrates slowed and breathing became less ragged. Finally, Marik was able to prop himself up on one arm, slowly stroking Bakura's hair. "Bakura?" The other boy cracked his eyes. "Hmmm?" Marik grinned down at him. "Do you think you really held me captive, or did I hold you?" Bakura shrugged. "What difference does it make now? You're mine." Marik nodded, then sank back down into Bakura. Sighing into the dark, Marik whispered under his breath, "No, the game is mine. You are mine."