A/N: Oh my…I can't believe this took me so freaking long to write T_T…I know it's been long awaited, but at least it's finally here! The reason behind this final chapters lateness is due to two different things (neither of which are school work, surprisingly). The first is that, frankly, I was nervous about writing the last chapter. THE. LAST. CHAPTER. (What if you all hate it? What if it's way too cheesy? What if...what if...etc.) But the more important reason was actually that I wrote half of this chapter right after posting the last one and then my computer was like OMG LOOK AT ALL THIS HARD WORK and deleted it all…upon realizing I had lost all that work, my heart snapped in two, and I spent the last couple months working up the inspiration to re-write what I had already written and couldn't possibly be as good the second time around…but, regardless of this, I hope it is good enough for all of my lovely readers! I can't wait to hear your thoughts on the ending, and I hope this is a truly satisfying finale…
Disclaimer: Not Mine! (Also, sorry for any mistakes, I'm posting this almost right after finishing it, so there wasn't a lot of editing that went into it…)
Ryou let out a squeak, as the tower of papers stuck between his arms and his chin wobbled, threatening to fall over.
He was attempting to transfer the mess from his bed over to his desk so that he could study and use his computer, but the volume of notes he had taken were making it a fairly difficult task.
A peel of noise answered his alarmed call, and he was so surprised that half the papers slipped from under his chin in a flurry of white disaster.
His first thought, after identifying the intruding noise as the sound of a doorbell, no less, his own doorbell, was, Bakura actually took time to fix it? He must be really bored.
His second thought was despair over the mess of paper he now had to pick up and put back in order before he could commence studying over Skype with Mariku.
Groaning in pure frustration, he deliberated between picking up his papers or stepping all over them to get out of his room in order to answer the door.
Hearing the doorbell ring twice more in quick succession, he threw in the towel and simply shouted, "Onii-san! Get the door!"
In retrospect, the lack of the word 'please' made it sound like an order, but he was too irate over this new mess to care. A thump from the room adjacent his indicated Bakura's displeasure with the command, but a moment later a creaking door announced his compliance.
Ryou smiled weakly, mildly amused that the former Thief King couldn't even sneak out of his own room without Ryou hearing. The smile quickly fell, as Ryou glanced around at his scattered papers, hopelessly.
It wasn't that he had to clean up, that wasn't so bad, but…sighing gently, he glanced at the closed laptop on his desk.
Things hadn't been easy, lately. It was obvious that Mariku was unwell, again. He was quiet. Stone faced. Not scary in the way he had been when they were younger, but scary in a different way. Not even in a way that triggered Ryou's PTSD.
It was like he had lost his ability to feel.
Ryou knew it wasn't personal, but he couldn't help working twice as hard to please his suddenly aloof lover. He constantly caught himself wondering if he had done something wrong, even when Mariku insisted he hadn't.
Still…the sound of the front door shutting with quite some force broke him out of his dark, internal brooding.
What in the world…?
-Twenty Minutes Earlier-
The pencil he had been chewing snapped between his teeth, as he ground them in irritation. Mariku stared at the broken remains in surprise for a moment before making a face at the bitter taste and deciding that that was Malik's fault, as well.
Maybe not directly, but he could still be blamed for it, since he was the source of Mariku's irritation.
Ever since they had returned home, the sound of feet pacing the upstairs hallways had been peppering the floor directly above Mariku's head. If he hadn't already been crazy, the irritable cycle of noise would have done it.
A twinge of guilt plucked his heartstrings which, battered and blackened as they were, still thrived for the sake of Ryou's affection. He had promise his delicate boyfriend that he would stop calling himself 'crazy'.
Thinking of his fluffy little lover had him once again glancing dubiously at the stack of photocopied notes that Ryou had sent home with him.
In about half an hour they were supposed to be having a Skype 'studying' session, but he was fairly certain he would spend the majority of the time staring at Ryou's adorable face and wondering what it would look like twisted in ecstasy.
Alas, he would be content with his flushed post-make out expression, which always gave Mariku a sense of pride.
Some people might think his Ryou was a 'prude', or bent on waiting until marriage, but Mariku knew that wasn't the case.
Ryou, given his unfortunate past with the matter, believed that willingly making love was the ultimate show of trust and acceptance of another person's permanent presence in your heart.
While the notion was a bit sappy for Mariku's taste, he appreciated knowing that Ryou would, given the opportunity, put down all his barriers for him.
The simple fact of the matter was that Ryou was too nice for his own good and didn't want to make Malik or Bakura uncomfortable –he wanted to wait until one or the other had moved out of the house before he took their own relationship to a more personal level, physically.
Which, given the still-constant sound of pacing above his head, could be in a very long time.
Bakura seemed incapable of getting over Malik, and Malik seemed equally incapable of admitting that he had more than a little crush on the elder Touzoku.
Perhaps, measures needed to be taken in order to speed up the process.
"Oi! Brat! If you wear a hole through the floor I will come up there and saw off your feet!" Mariku bellowed irritably at the ceiling. The tapping of pacing feet didn't so much as hesitate.
Malik was used to his idle threats. It was Mariku's way of caring or, at least, showing that he recognized someone else's existence.
After waiting an appropriate amount of seconds before continuing, Mariku added, "committing suicide via pissing me off is not the answer, just go talk to him." He had only raised his voice slightly that time, but he knew Malik had heard him.
The pacing stopped, and Mariku sighed in relief. In truth, the repetitive sound bothered him because it was too much like the voices. The Prozac muffled them, but left him feeling like a shell of himself.
He preferred what he described as 'Ryou therapy'. That enchanting voice made all the others fall silent, as though they, too, were transfixed by his beautiful voice. He was also seeing that doctor again, but that was beside the point.
His musings were interrupted by his door being flung open, angrily. Unsurprisingly, Malik was standing there with a poisonous glare scrawled across his face.
"What?" Mariku asked in a bemused tone, and Malik worked his mouth for a second, obviously not having fully decided what he was going to say after storming into Mariku's room so rudely.
"You obviously haven't been taking your meds if you think I said anything about wanting to talk to him," Malik finally spat, folding his arms, childishly.
"Who's him?" Mariku asked innocently, relishing the look of confusion on Malik's face.
"What…didn't you" –Malik floundered for a moment.
"You're the one who pointed I'm not on my meds –I thought that if you were so bored that you were willing to walk in circles for hours that you could kill some time talking to my imaginary friend. He's sitting in the corner," Mariku mocked, gesturing to the obviously empty corner of his room.
"Oh, fuck you! We both know that he's not…I mean, it's not…you were talking about me and Bakura!" Malik snapped in his haughtiest tone.
Mariku sighed sagely, leaning back in his chair, which spun so that he could face his otouto.
"Really? Because it sounds to me like you're the one thinking about him," he commented slyly, gazing at him through cracked open lids. He had the expression of a fox that had cleverly trapped its prey, and, Malik realized with a sinking sensation, he had.
"I wasn't thinking about that asshole," Malik denied weakly, averting his suddenly uncertain gaze.
Uncertain seemed to be the word of the year for him. He used to be the manipulator…now, he always felt as though it was his emotions that were being manipulated.
"Right, and you didn't enjoy kissing him, he just jumped you and you thought it would be rude not to kiss him back…?" Mariku continued to press in his most skeptical tone.
"N-no. I mean…it wasn't like that! I'm not his little bitch or something; I decide what I want to do with my body, and I'll decide for myself whether or not he gets a say in that," Malik said stoutly, tan cheeks tinting a pinkish color.
"For Ra-sake, Malik, I thought you were supposed to be smart!" Mariku suddenly shouted in exasperation. "By your own logic you just admitted that you like making out with him, otherwise you wouldn't have let him kiss you in the first place. Isn't that a good enough reason to at least give him a chance? You like to bitch; he likes to call you a bitch. You like debating stupid shit; he likes proving you wrong. You like kissing him; he's probably been fantasizing about doing you since the moment you two met! Accept it! You like him."
Malik looked, at best, stunned by the summary, and most definitely panicked by it. Opening his mouth to interject, Mariku quickly waved a hand, cutting off any protest.
"That doesn't even make you 'gay' or whatever it is you're afraid of being if you start dating him. It just means you dated one guy you happened to like. Liking a guy is different than liking guys in general."
So, he was on shaky ground there. He'd probably still get called gay and all that shit if he and Bakura started hooking up, but everyone thought they were together, anyways. He was just repeating one of the many romantic ideals that Ryou was passionate about.
With his speech at a close, Mariku swung his chair back towards his desk, and made himself look busy by grabbing the top papers off the monstrous stack Ryou had given him.
He continued to fake looking through the papers until Malik was convinced he actually was studying (the poor gullible bastard) and slipped out of the doorway.
Mariku kept up his charade until he heard the front door slam shut. He allowed himself to relax at the sound, a chuckle escaping his lips.
Ryou would be so proud of him.
-Fifteen Minutes Later-
A cheerful chime sounded throughout the tiny apartment, and Bakura took a moment of malicious appreciation for the startled noises coming from Ryou's room.
It was merely for the purpose of enjoying his little prank that he had fixed the doorbell in the first place. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
It may have also had something to do with the fact that it was something nice he could do for his otouto that didn't also slot under the protective category.
The mushy thought made Bakura wince, followed by a second wince when a shout of, "Onii-san! Get the door!" echoed across the living room separating the two rooms.
He hadn't considered that fixing the doorbell would eliminate his usual excuse of not being able to hear it when someone was at the door.
That was Ryou's job, to be nice and answer the door. If it was a creep, he could always call Bakura over to scare them away, and if it was a sales person, neighbor, or other nuisance, he was much better suited to deal with them than Bakura was.
Thumping the wall in irritation at his own short-sightedness, he decided he'd have to answer the door at least once –if only to admire his own handiwork before destroying the blasted device.
As he made his way out of his room, into the living room, and down the mini-hallway past the kitchen to the door, he considered all the ways he could re-break the doorbell whilst maintaining that it was an 'accident'.
Wrenching the door open, he gave his best glower to the person on the other side, giving it his own personal blend of condescending sneer, and angry scowl at having his home invaded.
Little did he know, this was all the person on the other side of the door needed to see before they had the courage to launch themselves through the doorway –straight into his arms.
Naturally, Malik knew it was him when he opened the door. Maybe it was cliché, but sometimes it felt like he'd been transported into some sick and fluffy fanfiction over the past couple months of his life.
It was only fitting that he knew Bakura's facial expression so well by now that he immediately knew it was him and not Ryou answering the door by the disgusted expression on his face.
Suddenly, he felt weak inside. Not weak in the knees but weak in the gut, like someone had watered down his stomach.
Why was he doing this to himself? Surely the daily torture of his up-and-down crush and the mixed signals Bakura gave him were less painful than what he was about to do.
But he knew that wasn't true.
At least this way it would be over, quick and painless. A clean break, if that's what it came to.
If that's what it came to?
Wasn't that what his goal was in coming here out of the blue like this?
Or was he still kindling some tiny little hope that this could end in some other way?
His confused mind was just that –too confused to sort through his emotions. Just like it always was. Only Mariku had a point; he needed to stop shutting them away and take control for once rather than letting them torture him day in and day out.
It needed to either be something or be nothing. The in-between stages were better for manipulation, but Malik couldn't say he enjoyed them when he was the one being manipulated.
With this thought firmly in mind, he took two defiant steps forward and threw himself directly into Bakura's arms. For the first time, he took the initiative and made their lips meet with bruising grace, pushing past the ex-Thief Kings half-hearted defences at this strange twist.
Bakura wasn't sure what to do in this situation. He knew the person at the door was Malik, he'd recognized him right away, but surely it couldn't be Malik, because he was kissing him with only slightly more tenderness than a madman.
And Malik wouldn't take the initiative in kissing him because…because Malik just didn't do that. He was still in the closet! Wasn't he?
Bakura's mind, normally so grounded and unshakeable was doing cartwheels of confusion and pleasure. Regrettably, the confusion won out over the pleasure because really, what the hell was going on and why did he have to develop feelings for such an unpredictable bastard?
As though sensing his thoughts, Malik disconnected the kiss harshly, gasping slightly for air. Clearly, whatever he'd been thinking during their out-of-the-blue kiss, it wasn't breathing.
"There! There you, bastard!" He gasped defiantly, shoving Bakura backwards with one trembling hand. Bakura took an uncertain step backwards, not so much from the light push, but because he wasn't sure if Malik was going to kiss-attack him again or hit him.
"Now you've officially made me crazy! I hope you're happy. You've kissed me and I've kissed you, and fuck you if the entire world knows that I have insecurities! So…so…fuck you, get out of my head and stop screwing with me!" He raged, appearing shaky both emotionally and physically.
Bakura decided he'd play nice and not make a joke about how much he would love to be screwing the gorgeous blond in front of him.
"Insecurities…? What? I thought you were pissed that I told Ryou we kissed, what the hell does this have to do with your insecurities?"
The irritation and confusion in Bakura's voice gave Malik his first clue that he might not be the only one with insecurities about whatever was going on between them. After all, it wasn't as though Bakura had any experience with emotional relationships.
"I wasn't pissed that he knew we kissed and stuff," Malik said gruffly, now avoiding Bakura's gaze, "I just didn't want anyone to know that I didn't know how I feel. But I think I do now. Maybe. Whatever, just go get him, would you?"
Bakura rolled his eyes, cuffing the back of Malik's head hard enough to make the other boy wince and rub the back of his head. It had the desired effect, though; Malik's violet glare darted back to Bakura's face, allowing them to lock eyes.
It was obvious there was something more going on here than Malik just wanting to make an 'announcement' about his feelings. He was acting even more unpredictable than usual, and that was saying something.
Still, Bakura was more than ready to know, even if he didn't like the answer…especially since Malik seemed to want Ryou around to give him that answer.
"Why not just tell me if you want this to just be between the two of us so badly?" Bakura accused suspiciously, and Malik nearly blew a gasket. Was Bakura trying to make this as difficult as possible for him to sort out his muddled emotions?
"Just –fucking –get –him. I want to get this over with," Malik ordered in a flinty voice, clearly informing Bakura that he wasn't going to get any answers until Ryou was also in the room.
"Fine," Bakura gave in suddenly, and Malik blinked in surprise. He had assumed Bakura would continue to put up a fight.
"I said our kissing experiment wouldn't mean anything if you didn't want it to. Obviously, it did. I don't appreciate being led on, and I'm not going to lead you on. So, if this is what you need to make up your 'Ra-damned' mind, then I'll do it if only so I can know whether not to forget about this or accept it," Bakura explained in a harsh tone, expression as cold as ice.
Malik flinched away from the bluntness of his statement, an ache forming inside him as Bakura stalked away. Was he really so uncaring about what was happening between them? Or was this just a defence mechanism?
At least, it would make it easier to create a clean break…
Even as Malik thought this, Bakura paused outside of Ryou's room to look back at him.
"Malik," he said in a commanding voice, drawing Malik's eyes straight to those soul-sucking, mahogany eyes. "If you do decide you're gay, just know: no matter who or how much the competition, if there is any chance at all, you will be mine."
And with those words, he turned away again, disappearing into Ryou's room.
The three kneeled awkwardly on the living room floor, wondering what exactly was supposed to happen now. Malik figured it was up to him since…well…he was the one who asked for this.
Why was that again?
Oh right, to clear up his own confusion, which really hadn't been helped by Bakura's last statement.
He would be his? Did that mean…that Bakura really did want him, and all of his denial had just been to keep himself from getting hurt, just like Malik's had been?
He wanted to believe so. All of a sudden, he knew. He really wanted to believe so. There was only one last thing to do to seal his own fate.
"So…I, um…I guess you both know how I feel…or how I don't know how I feel, I guess…though, I think I do, I just…well, I had this idea to figure out if I'm, you know, really gay, or just sort of gay or…" his gaze flickered awkwardly towards Bakura.
"Yah," he finished lamely, unsure of how to say what he meant. He'd never felt so awkward or inarticulate in his life.
Shifting his gaze to Ryou, he saw that the other boy didn't look uncomfortable with the situation, but more worried, his milk chocolate eyes swimming with concern.
He had never rubbed Malik's insecurities in his face, but it didn't make Malik feel any less awkward about what he was going to do.
"Okay, so…this might be a stupid idea, but…well, just don't freak out, okay? And don't tell Mariku, I'm not sure I'd survive," he assured Ryou nervously. Ryou gave a small nod, looking more confused now.
Malik edged closer until their knees touched, trying to look anywhere but at Ryou's understanding, warm eyes.
"Don't…don't take this personally," he continued, leaning his face a little bit closer to the other boy's. Ryou's eyes widened, seeming to pick up on where he was going with this.
"Please don't freak out…please…" Malik requested quietly before closing the distance between their lips completely.
He kissed Ryou as tenderly as he could, just like he had kissed his many 'girlfriends' in the past. He hadn't really had feelings for any of them either, just like he certainly didn't have feelings for Ryou.
He had to hand it to the tender albino, though, because he didn't pull back in revulsion, or panic, but returned the kiss in an equally tender fashion. Good Ra, what would Mariku think if he could see his boyfriend and otouto kissing like this?
Malik quickly realized Mariku might not even feel much at all over the situation. Maybe some protectiveness, but any idiot with eyes could see that there was no passion behind the kiss.
It wasn't awkward, tentative, or any of those other 'first kiss' words –it was just a kiss.
It suddenly made Malik understand why Bakura and Mariku hadn't understood his prolonged irritation over seeing them kissing in the cafeteria. There was nothing real about it.
Bakura watched the two's prolonged kiss with revulsion and jealousy. Was this how Malik had felt, seeing him and Mariku play-kiss? If so, Bakura might actually have to regret something he had done, which rarely happened.
It was wrong to watch his love interest kiss his otouto, even if it was just in the name of 'figuring things out'. It made Bakura feel like he had just watched the two Egyptian brothers kiss. There was just something profoundly wrong about it.
He was sure he was about to lunge between them and end their long experimental kiss by force when Malik finally pulled away. Ryou sat back as well, looking a little bit dazed and embarrassed.
"Yah…I won't be telling Mariku about that anytime soon…" he admitted.
Malik noted that he looked kind of adorable with his round cheeks dusted in pink, brown eyes wide in surprise. He also noted that the thought didn't make him feel strange, like it normally would.
He felt comfortable with the thought. The same way he might note a girl who he felt no physical or emotional attraction to was cute was the way he noted Ryou's looks. There was no romance behind the thought.
What was that supposed to mean, that he was asexual?
Glancing awkwardly towards Bakura, the slight thump of his heart speeding up told him that he most definitely was not asexual.
"I'm sorry I had to victimize you, Ryou," he apologized smoothly, though Ryou just shook his head with a small smile. It was so typical of him to simply accept that helping a friend, even if it meant kissing him, was perfectly normal.
"The whole point of the experiment was to kiss two different guys and…see what the difference was," he said slowly, treating Bakura with more wariness than he had Ryou.
He knew Ryou would not reject his kiss, no matter how much he did or did not appreciate it. Bakura, on the other hand, was less predictable…
"You mean other than the fact that I'm a far superior kisser?" Bakura asked cockily.
Malik rolled his eyes, already questioning his fears. Did he really think Bakura would reject him after his earlier statement? Kissing each other was practically becoming normal.
And while it was hard to say what sort of kisser Ryou was in there unemotional connection of lips, he did know Bakura was a very good kisser.
"Shut up and just let me kiss you," Malik snapped haughtily, coaxing an exaggerated fake-pout out of Bakura.
"But Malik, you're not reassuring me the way you did him. How is that a fair experiment?" He asked, gesturing loosely in Ryou's direction, though his predatory gaze never left Malik's flustered face.
"Well…well…you're not him!" Malik responded, feeling trapped by that gaze and the slink of Bakura's body as he brought himself closer to Malik.
"No, you're right, I'm definitely not him," he whispered into Malik's ear in his most sultry tone before adding, "and I don't let people kiss me."
With that said, he leaned in and capture Malik's mouth with his own, enjoying the way Malik didn't hesitate to kiss back, for once.
Malik was just thinking that this kiss was completely different from the one he'd just had with Ryou when he realized that Bakura's overbearing presence had weighted the 'experiment' in his own favour.
Malik was the one who was supposed to be doing the kissing! Jerking away, Malik glared at that all-knowing smirk.
"You ass, that's not the way this is supposed to work," he growled, using the element of surprise and his taller frame to throw Bakura onto his back, with Malik straddling him on top.
"Now stay put," he ordered, leaning in for another kiss, ignoring Ryou's squeak of surprise and embarrassment over seeing what position they were in.
This time, he had the opportunity to explore what the difference was between his two most recent kisses. With Ryou, it had been a tender touch of skin against skin, the same way two hands might brush.
Interestingly, unlike his other kisses with Bakura, this one was not bruising or harsh, but equally gentle in its own strange way. For one thing, Bakura was entertaining Malik's desire to kiss rather than be kiss.
That is to say, there was no struggle for dominance between their tongues.
That was another thing –there had definitely been no tongue with Ryou. The mere thought of French-kissing one of his best friends made Malik's innards churn, but with Bakura, it was only natural.
Bakura's lips weren't as soft nor was he as complacent, but it was still a glorious kiss that left any other in the dust.
Bakura, feeling the need to have some control over the kiss, pulled away from Malik after a long moment. His mind registered that they had already made Ryou extremely uncomfortable, if not in the same way that Bakura had been uncomfortable.
To be fair, this kiss had been much more suggestive than Malik and Ryou's had been, given their position on the floor.
Jostling Malik off of his lap, Bakura then used him to pull himself into a sitting position. Malik gave no complaints, allowing him to do so, which was strange in and of itself.
Peeking at his expression, Bakura noticed that it was somewhat far away and contemplative, despite the small smile on his lips.
"So, did that answer your questions?" Ryou asked tentatively after a long moment, and Malik startled out of it.
"Sorry, I was just thinking that…yes, it did. Maybe, I should have kissed you a long time ago, Ryou," he teased, and Ryou's eyes grew wide, glancing desperately between him and Bakura.
"Relax," Malik laughed, enjoying the way Ryou scrambled to find a way to soothe the situation. At least some things hadn't changed over their time of knowing each other.
"I just meant that it made me realize something. Mostly that I don't really know what my sexuality is yet, and I don't really care," he announced in a nonchalant voice, analyzing both Touzoku's reactions carefully.
Bakura's eyes narrowed, analyzing right back as the gears in his brain worked to figure out what Malik meant by that. Ryou's concern increased to the nth degree, a near panicked expression on his face.
"So, that's it?" Bakura asked coldly.
Malik rolled his eyes, reaching out to cuff the back of Bakura's head in return for the smack he'd received in coming to the house earlier.
"No, dumbass," he said shortly, grabbing Bakura's hand when he reached up to touch his sore head. "I like you. Romantically. I don't know what that makes my sexuality, but you're the only one who makes me feel the way you do when we kiss. That's it," he explained, feeling overly mushy with the statement, and wondering how Bakura would take it.
Another moment, even longer than the last due to Malik's own anticipation, passed between them. Bakura's face seemed blank, searching for something to say in return.
"Fuck you," he finally said, and Malik's expression crumbled into one of confusion and irritation.
"I said, fuck you. You made me wait all this time for you to figure out your sexuality and your answer is you don't know?" Bakura snarled, seeming enraged by the mere idea.
His hand gad not left Malik's, but his grip was so strong that it was close to bruising.
"But that's what you always say about your sexuality. That you're not a 'can of soup' or some shit like that," Malik argued back, his typical contradictory nature rising in the heat of battle.
Ryou's eyes bounced back and forth between them like he was following a game of ping pong.
"That's not the point!" Bakura raged. "We could have been…I could have been…so fucking long ago! Fuck you," he said, obviously at a loss for anything else to say, and, in lieu of words, wrenched Malik forward for another tender-but-not kiss.
Ryou watched the two with a bewildered expression, wondering what in the world had passed between them. It only went to show that they understood each other on a level that others didn't, not even Ryou.
The peel of the doorbell filled the small apartment once more. While Ryou jumped in surprise, the two didn't even break from their kiss.
Feeling awkward just sitting there watching them, he decided he'd rather answer the door than remain where he was. Getting up, he hurried away, happy for the distraction.
Swinging the door open, this time it was his turn to be surprised. It was…Mariku? What was it with Ishtars showing up out of the blue at their house today?
"Did it work?" He blurted in his typical, overexcited fashion.
"Did…what work?" Ryou asked feeling even more confused. Maybe he should just start kissing random guys; it certainly seemed to have worked for Malik.
One glance at Mariku's handsome, excited face assured him that he wouldn't, though. How could he want anyone else?
Suddenly, Bakura and Malik's relationship made much more sense. They had something in common that it would take years, probably a life time, to find in another person.
Just like him and Mariku.
They shared something that no one else could touch, something perfect and beautiful, even when it might appear twisted and far from perfect to an outsider.
There was no way to replace that feeling of safety and understanding and protection from judgement and loneliness that he felt when he was with his strong lover.
"Malik is here, right? He and Bakura got together?" Mariku continued eagerly unaware of Ryou's deep thoughts.
"Oh…yes…can't you hear them from here?" Ryou joked, and Mariku laughed the way he did for no one else.
"I'd rather focus on hearing what you would sound like," Mariku replied seductively, though he knew it was of little use. "Perhaps, in thanks for finally pushing them to get together?" He added pleadingly, and Ryou giggled.
"We'll see," he replied, winking at Mariku's surprised expression, as he slipped into his shoes and willingly followed him out the door. Closing it behind him, he added, "we should at least give them some privacy."
"That can be arranged," Mariku said softly from behind him, gently biting the ridge of his ear, while wrapping an arm around his thin waist. Ryou gave a squeak of surprise, and then smiled, enjoying the feelings it drew from within him.
"Hey, Mariku?" He said suddenly, and Mariku stopped his ministrations, indicating that he was waiting for whatever Ryou had to say.
Just like that, he put aside his own desires for the sake of Ryou's. It was…it was…
"We're perfect together, you know that?" Mariku chuckled slightly, nuzzling his pale neck affectionately.
"Yes. Yes, we are."
A/N: BAM! It's finished! My heart is actually breaking at the mere thought of posting this. How can this possibly be the last chapter? After so much work and love has gone into this story…it makes me happy to post it knowing you guys will finally have the long awaited ending, but so sad to know I won't be writing any more of something that's been a part of my life for so long…Anyways, I do hope you all enjoyed it, please let me know! ;)