A/N: I've been wanting to write this song-fic for some time...but I kept remembering, and forgetting...forgetting, and remembering...Well! This time I remembered! Yay me! *pats self on back* I love this song, and anything by Florence + The Machine in general. You should check her out...

*begins rant*

I liked Florence + The Machine wayyyyyyy before her music popped up all over the place.

I also liked Muse WAYYYYYYYY before those Twilight dipshits decided to ruin their music and put it on the soundtracks, and every single fourteen year old girl suddenly became 'fans' of Muse.

*shakes fist a sky*

ANYVAYYYY

Hehehe sorry about that. I couldn't resist...^^

On with the story!

Warning: Language and Thiefshipping Lovin' (read: abuse, but not the mean, heartless kind. Ya know. What I usually write. Lol)

I do not own the rights to Kiss with a Fist. They are the property of Florence + The Machine and I made no profit from their use whatsoever.

You hit me once

I hit you back

You gave a kick

I gave a slap

You smashed a plate over my head

Then I set fire to our bed.

You hit me once

I hit you back

You gave a kick

I gave a slap

You smashed a plate over my head

Then I set fire to our bed.

"Be back in a few!" Bakura called over his shoulder as he left the apartment to shop the local liquor store. They were out of vodka. Malik wondered as to why this concerned him more than the lack of bathroom tissue.

"I'm sure, B." Malik uttered sardonically under his breath as the front door closed. He reached into his pocket and extricated Bakura's cell phone. He allowed himself a conceited smirk as he ran his fingers over the slender piece of technology he had spirited from the pouch of his mate's gray hoodie before he departed. "You're not the only one with dextrous fingers..."

Malik had had his suspicions for some time. Long nights that had become longer...surreptitious phone calls...strange withdrawals from their joint bank account. Malik didn't like to be duped. If he had somehow...lost his touch in the bedroom, he wouldn't have minded Bakura's bringing of this issue to light. He might have denied it—vehemently of course. And he might have punched Bakura in the face. But he sure as hell would've preferred it that way than the Thief fucking some little shit on the side!

He also wasn't one for invasion of privacy. Luckily, Malik had a way of bending his morals to fit any need, not unlike the flexibility of a circus contortionist. The phone's screen happened to flip open...and somehow his finger happened to press the scroll key to the text message icon, and then press the call button. And what was the most recent conversation on the queue? One with none other than dear, innocent, shining Ryou. "Hm. Guess their 'brotherly relationship' took a turn for incest." Malik couldn't believe his fortuitousness as the phone's ringtone blared through the still apartment—"Monster," by Lady Gaga. "You sure do have a strange sense of humor, B," Malik mumbled before answering. It was Ryou of course; he allowed him to start to conversation,

"Hey 'Kuraaaaa! Well, I got the body oil you asked for..." Malik burst into silent laughter. "I never figured you for a chocolate kinda guy..." Malik nearly fell off the chair he was sitting on, "but hey! Whatever floats your boat! I'm not complaining! So...are ya coming over tonight or what?...'Kura? Are you there?"

Malik took a beat to compose himself, "I'm sorry. Bakura can't come to the phone right now. Shall I leave your message with him? Or is there something else you'd like to add?"

"...Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit! Malik...is that you...?"

"That would be a bingo Ryou darling. I didn't realize B had any plans tonight..." Malik laughed cruelly, "But I guess you would know better than I, wouldn't you?"

"Malik...I-I'm so sorry...look...it just sort of 'happened', ya know?"

Malik's head shot forward in disbelief, "'Just sort of "happened"', you say? What, did you trip and your open asshole landed on his dick?"

"There's no need to be crass, Malik."

"Oh can your sanctimonious act you whore! A couple of years ago you coulda pulled that off. Not now. Not after what I just heard you say."

"I think I better go now..."

"You won't do a thing you miserable piece of shit, not if value your perfect face. Got it?"

Ryou's voice took a harsh edge, "Yeah. I got it."

"Good. Now. You're not gonna see Bakura ever again. Alone at least. Following me so far?"

"You have no right—"

"I have every fucking right! He happens to be my boyfriend. We happen to share an apartment, a bank account, and our lives. I'm not going to lose him to some whiny, cheap, opportunistic bitch. Still following me?"

"Yeah..." Ryou's voice was a meager mumbled as he had just had his ass served to him on a silver platter.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

"YEAH!"

"That's better. If I ever catch wind of you two being together, or find out that you have been talking to him or fucking him behind my back EVER AGAIN I'll carve your face like a goddamn jack-o-lantern. Got that? Our circle of friends is rather small, and after finding out about this, I'm sure they'll be more than happy to assist me. And I'm pretty damn resourceful myself if you hadn't noticed. Do I make myself clear?"

"Chrystal."

"I'm so glad to hear that my sweet little Ryou. Have a nice night, you hear? Don't let that chocolate body oil go to waste." Malik swiftly hung up.

He had maintained his cool throughout the phone call but after it was over he began hyperventilating. He was beyond angry. At Ryou. At Bakura. And most of all, at himself. He went into the kitchen and waited. He didn't have to wait long.

"Mal? Mal, I'm back...they had a special on Grey Goose so I got that instead of the Absolut, I hope you don't—" Bakura had just enough time to see a circular, black object swinging to his head before he crumpled to the ground. Malik had hit him upside the head with a William-Sonoma frying pan, one from the set Bakura had given him for his past birthday. "THE FUCK?"

"So you thought you could just fuck some little whore as long as you wanted with no consequence?"

Bakura nursed his head with his left hand and smirked lopsidedly, "So that's where my phone went..."

"Oh shove it asshole. I'm not finished with you yet."

"You had the element of surprise MalMal. Don't forget who has the superior reflexes here."

"That may be. But I'm stronger. And I'm pissed. The fuck. Off. Some dude said a mouthful when he said 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.'"

My black eye casts no shadow

Your red eye sees no pain

Your slaps don't stick

Your kicks don't hit

So we remain the same

Blood sticks and

Sweat drips

Break the lock if it don't fit

A kick in the teeth is good for some

A kiss with a fist is better than none

A-woah

A kiss with a fist is better than none.

"Are you really that surprised, Malik? I mean, things were getting dull...people can only keep up fidelity for so long. Man is not suited for monogamy."

"Don't make excuses. Love is more than sex, Bakura! It's the highest act of reverence a couple can share, but it doesn't rule a relationship. Nevertheless, it's not something for the gutter, nor 'chocolate body oil.'" Malik smirked as he evinced a blush from his mate. "Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Shut up. I hate it when you gloat. You positively glow," Bakura scowled.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Haha!" Bakura mock laughed. "At any rate, I hope you don't think you're gonna get away with that abuse."

Malik arched an eyebrow, "'Scuse me?"

The Thief grinned animalistically, "I believe punishment is in order." In a move as swift as a lightning strike, he savagely crushed Malik's wrist underneath his grip and twisted it sharply, causing Malik to howl in pain and drop the frying pan. In turn, Malik used his left hand to slash Bakura across the face with his sharp nails drawing blood and skin.

"You bitch! You could have broken my wrist!"

"Stupid cunt! You scarred my face!" Bakura reached into his back pocket and withdrew a switchblade. With a snap of the wrist, the blade was extended. With another, Malik had a formidable gash along his left cheek.

"Ahhhhh! What the fuck?"

"Tit for tat."

"Bitch. We're far from even." Malik kicked the switchblade out of Bakura's hand and punched him square in the nose. He heard a unceremonious crunch and saw blood gush onto the white kitchen floor. Bakura reeled for a second, then with new vengeance he lunged at Malik's supple neck, crushing is under his mighty hands, shoving Malik and his head against the kitchen wall. Malik kneed Bakura in the balls and ran for the hallway. Bakura reached out and yanked Malik's hair as he rounded the corner, causing Malik to fall backward sharply and strike his head against the corner of the wall, which dew blood. Malik tried to crawl away but was still disoriented from his wound. Bakura took the opportunity to stomp Malik's spine underneath his fierce tread, pulling his hands forcefully behind his back.

"Not too bad, Malik. I didn't expect so much fight from you. It would almost be impressive, if it weren't so utterly pathetic."

"I hate you! I hate you so fucking much!" Hot, briny tears cascaded ingloriously down Malik's tanned cheeks. He wept for his wounds, but not his external ones: he wept for the pieces of his broken heart.

Bakura dragged him into the bedroom and hurled him onto the bed, the velocity causing Malik to bounce and hit the wall with an awkward thud. Bakura pounced upon his graceful elk, and kissed him cruelly. Malik bit hard on Bakura's lower lip, eliciting a moan and blood. Malik thought the taste of that essential fluid somehow suited that of Bakura's exotic mouth. He knew he was going crazy, because he was responding to the kiss with every fibre of his being. His hands were tangled gracelessly in Bakura's arctic mane, his legs were wrapped about Bakura's taut waist. He was whimpering like a neglected child and Bakura drank it up with a mocking smirk.

Broke your jaw once before

Spilt your blood upon the floor

You broke my leg in return

Sit back and watch the bed burn

Well love sticks sweat drips

Break the lock if it don't fit

A kick in the teeth is good for some

A kiss with a fist is better than none

A-woah

A kiss with a fist is better than none.

Bakura broke the intimate intertwining and rested his chin on Malik's firm chest, stroking his slashed cheek with perfect tenderness, gazing into Malik's swirling amaranthine eyes with perfect love.

"Bakura...I-I don't understand..."

"You didn't think I'd really cheat on you, did you?"

"W-What?"

He kissed Malik's collarbone lightly, "I love you...more than anything, or anyone. I'd never betray your trust. Things were getting boring in here," Bakura indicated the bedroom, "And I didn't want that to happen. I know you don't see sex the same way I do...but..." Bakura rested his head horizontally and Malik reassuringly ran his fingers through his hair, tinged as it was with blood and sweat. "...I'm the dominant one here, whether you like it or not. So...it was my fault for not satisfying you enough. I take great pride in making you squirm with pleasure, making your eyes roll back, making you cum all over your chest, making you scream my name. I didn't know what to do...Ryou told me about role playing. That if I made you jealous, you'd want me more. The whole thing with him was an act. I figured it was worth a shot, though I didn't anticipate that you'd try to beat the shit outta me..." Both of them laughed,

"Shut up, you deserved it."

Bakura looked up once more toward Malik, "Yeah, I guess I did. Maybe I took it too far, I don't know..." Bakura's sienna eyes glistened with tears, "I just didn't want to lose you...I know I'm not the most affectionate guy or whatever, and I can be a mean drunk...I thought if I couldn't make you happy sex wise you'd find someone else to do it. Sex is my confidence, Malik. It's how I know I make you happy. Do you understand?"

Malik smiled kindly, "I know it. I just wish you trusted me more...you know I could never replace you. I couldn't imagine it. It makes me sick just thinking about it. We're partners in crime, B. A perfect fit. You're the Clyde to my Bonnie. Together 'til the end."

Bakura meshed his lips against Malik's neck, obscuring his face from Malik's view. The Egyptian felt a wet sensation run down his shoulder, and he knew they were tears. "I love you so fucking much..."

Malik nuzzled his cheek against Bakura's face, "I love you, too...We're so fucked up, ya know that? Most couples would just get counseling..."

Bakura chuckled with his usual sarcasm, "We just do things differently. A kiss with is fist is better than therapy any day!" The pair shared wicked smirk and simply basked in their collective warmth, both happy to be close in a new way.

You hit me once

I hit you back

You gave a kick

I gave a slap

You smashed a plate over my head

Then I set fire to our bed.

You hit me once

I hit you back

You gave a kick

I gave a slap

You smashed a plate over my head

Then I set fire to our bed.

A/N: Ta-da! I hope I didn't make that too mushy...but I did want Bakura to evince some emotion. And I wanted to give them a happy ending for once. ^^

Please R&R! Who knows...maybe I'll write a follow up...hehehe *smirks deviously*