Marik slung back the whiskey, relishing in the burn as it quickly slid down his throat. He smacked his lips and exhaled, waiting for a moment or two before ordering another shot. Once the bartender delivered it to him, he tossed it back with as much hesitation as he'd demonstrated with the first; none at all. The whole time, he ignored Bakura, who was perched on the stool to his right, slightly turned to watch the dance floor. Bakura wasn't paying much attention to him either, his focus instead trained on some leather-clad punk with pointy three-colored hair. The pale man's tongue absently rolled over the lip of the beer bottle he held, and Marik could almost smell the lust wafting off his so-called boyfriend like some cheap cologne.
Should he be angry? Jealous? Devastated that Bakura would be attracted to anyone else but him and not even try to hide it?
At one point he had been. They'd been dating for months, and to find out Bakura had been cheating on him for a good two weeks had enraged Marik. When he'd confronted Bakura about it, after the man had staggered home one night, the Brit had put on a remorseful mask and said he'd been pressured into it. Marik had narrowed his eyes dangerously, not believing for one second the great Bakura could be pressured into anything, and voiced in opinion with one word. After that it had been a one on one yelling match until Marik's voice finally faded and he left Bakura to sleep on the floor, not even giving him the couch. As soon as he woke up, it was right back to arguing.
Marik glanced over at Bakura, who either didn't notice the glare or ignored it. Why would he even stay with this bastard? He was abusive and uncaring, a cheater and a slut. Marik knew the other man was just in it for the sex. It had always been for the sex. So why did Marik stay? Because he loved Bakura? No, not at all. Love was an abstract idea he couldn't quite grasp, not an emotion he felt easily. Was he afraid? More likely than being in love, but it was still far fetched. Was he, too, just in it for the sex? ….HA! Yeah right. The sex was good, but not that good.
So, why did Marik stay with such an asshole?
The answer was so obvious to him.
Leaving Bakura meant losing. And Marik didn't like to lose.
In his mind, this was all a game that Bakura was playing. Bakura was all about head games. The more Marik pretended not to care about the disheveled hair and clothes and bite marks on Bakura's neck, the more Bakura played around, as if testing his patience. The number they grew to whatever warped relationship they were in, the less they even communicated at all. The less they communicated, the more they gave each other dirty looks during intimate moments.
But Marik would get even tonight. That's exactly why he was tossing back drinks like no other- because he knew he'd have to be drunk for this. Because somewhere deep down, for whatever reason, he still knew he was with Bakura, and he still knew what he was about to do was cheating. But he was determined to get back at the selfish bastard. Make him swallow a big spoonful of his own bitter medicine.
He heard Bakura's voice, but didn't register the man was speaking to him until he heard his name. He turned to him with a questioning look. "Huh?"
Bakura chuckled mockingly. "I said, are you trying to set a new record for most shots downed in an hour, or are you just lonely?"
Marik frowned, but then straightened out of the slight slump he was previously in. "Maybe being in the presence of the worst boyfriend on Earth just compels to me to drink." He raised the glass to his lips as if for effect. "And drink, and drink, and drink."
Bakura scowled and turned away, his eyes almost immediately locking back onto the star headed asshole. Marik followed his gaze, seeing the nameless punk was discussing someone with a bespeckled blond woman on the edge of the dance floor. He figured that was why Bakura had tried to tease him into a conversation; his subject of interest had now become an invalid selection. Marik grinned and tossed back a victorious drink.
However, within a minute the man was turning away from the woman, and Marik knew by the way he paused that he had met Bakura's eyes. Bakura in return straightened, giving the man a small nod of acknowledgement. Instead of frowning or turning away in heterosexual disgust like Marik had expected, the man replied with a smirk and a flirtatious wink before disappearing into a small crowd of dancing bodies.
Marik scowled as the earlier aura of ill-contained lust began radiating off Bakura again. What was he, a bitch in heat? After a some thought, he came up with a plan and turned around in his bar stool, leaning back onto the bar with his shot glass held lazily in his hand.
"He was so checking you out," he said, adding a slight drawl to his voice so the statement didn't sound so odd coming from him.
Bakura glanced over at him with suspicious eyes, but after seeing the faux state of drunkenness Marik was in, he let the gaze drop. "Your point?"
"Go talk to him," Marik suggested, stumbling over his vowels.
"No," the pale man replied sharply.
Bakura smirked, his head tilting downwards so he was looking up at Marik through his lashes; a look that was thought to be intimidating. Marik had always thought it made him look retarded. "It will be more fun if he comes to me."
Marik resisted the urge to snort hotly. Instead he just hummed, throwing back another shot.
Things grew silent between them after that, like it always did. What more did they have to say to each other at this point? Nothing whatsoever, far from throwing insults. So Marik also turned his attention to the dance floor.
He found the bloke in leather and his group after a short search. He studied each member carefully, contemplating his first move. There was the star head, of course, but he was off-limits since Bakura had already claimed him; there was a smaller version of him to his right, perhaps a little brother, with bigger eyes and a nervous grin as he danced awkwardly to the music. He kept glancing up at the taller one, as if looking for approval. Marik frowned and shook his head.
His eyes then turned to the only girl of the group. She was jerking and twisting and shaking her hair in a way she must have thought of as sexy, but to Marik it looked like she was having some sort of fit. He went on to scan the other two males. A plain looking brunette and a hyperactive looking blond. The brunette was definitely out of the question, but the blond had potential. Marik would have approached him if he hadn't kept stealing glances at the smallest member.
He sighed and moved on.
No one of much interest was dancing now, and he gave an audible growl. There had to be someone he could screw in this damn place! It had a reputation in town for being the best place to meet up with other one night standers. He moved his gaze to the tables and booths adjacent to the dance floor.
After a minute or two, a woman with long blond hair just happened to look up from her phone and meet his gaze. She slowly smiled and leaned onto the table she sat at, her purple eyes sending him all kinds of messages to him from across the room. He tipped his head in acknowledgement, smiling back in the most non-flirty way possible. She was pretty, and looked like fun, but he didn't think he could bring himself to swing that way, even if he was drunk.
And so, he kept searching.
There were more suiting candidates here than on the dance floor, like the ravenette with dice earrings and the exotic whitette with the most curious scar on his cheek. Both gave him the look, and he'd almost approached them both. However, the plain brunette man from earlier came to drag the dice boy to the dance floor, and another blonde with wild hair suddenly slid into the tan man's lap stopped him in his tracks. Obviously he'd been mistaken for the other in the whitette's case, and honestly, he wasn't drunk enough to go after someone from the same group Bakura was targeting.
He sighed inaudibly, giving up the search. He'd just tell Bakura he wanted to go home. Depending on how hostile Bakura's reply was, he'd say he was either feeling ill from all the alcohol, or he'd gotten a sudden case of the hornies, or something to that effect. Bakura wouldn't want Marik emptying his guts all over the bar(at least, not while a potential fuck buddy was watching), and he never missed a chance to screw Marik into oblivion. With either lie, he'd be taken home, and he'd try again next time.
He turned to tell Bakura the lie, but couldn't get the words out as the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen slid into a booth right across the room from him. He took a short pull from a martini glass, looking up at his surroundings. Almost immediately, he met Marik's gaze with his own cold blue eyes. The blond blinking slowly, almost frozen by the color alone. So vivid and intense and blue. Sure, he'd seen blue eyes before, but all of them paled in comparison to these, inexpressive and narrowed, but still so captivating.
He could almost hear the cheesy seventies music playing in the background.
It took him awhile to finally look away, but when he looked back, those eyes were still on him, as if studying him. He swallowed slowly, suddenly nervous under such an intense gaze. He let his eyes drop from those haunting eyes to look at the rest of him.
His skin was pale and fair with no visible perfections, contrasting nicely with the chocolate hair that came down to brushed against his top eyelids, styled so it wouldn't be a bother. The man's face was chiseled and angular, with high cheekbones and a stern mouth. His shoulders were broad, his chest swooping into a tiny waist with a long, graceful curve. Long legs stretched out from that those hips one resting on the other, his foot moving to some unknown music unheard to Marik's ears.
He was dressed more sophisticatedly than most others in the bar, don in a dark turtleneck and tight black pants. It was a far cry from Marik's black tank top, camo pants and motorcycle jacket, but all the same left so much to the imagination, and the thought of him stripping slowly had Marik licking his lips.
He was staring now.
Marik was staring hungrily at the man across from him, and he didn't care who noticed.
Because the man was staring back.
A slow, almost unseen smirk formed on those previously frowning lips, blue eyes narrowing as if in challenge. He must have realized Marik was interested in him, and wouldn't look away again. His reaction gave Marik the confidence boost he needed, and he leaned back onto the bar again, smirking and narrowing his eyes in return. One eyebrow seemed to cock questioningly, and Marik's smirk broadened as he tilted his head.
Get the fuck over here...
He watched as the brunette uncrossed his legs and put both feet on the floor. He moved his drink away from him, his gaze never leaving Marik's. He gave a defiant smirk and crossed his arms, as if waiting for the blonde's next move.
It was Marik's turn to raise an eyebrow, and he tossed his head back and downed yet another shot. He grinned at the brunette, licking the extra vodka from his lips. If there had been any confusion in the signals they were sending, that would have cleared it up.
The man's eyes widen slightly, and Marik held his breath. To his relief, the man closed his eyes and smirked, moving to stand. Marik admired his height, definitely over six feet, while hoping his body wasn't compensating for...something else.
The man started walking towards him, the exact same moment a very flirty "Hello there," invaded his ears. He looked over to see Bakura's little friend, leaning onto the bar, hovering over the other man with a small grin.
"Hello," Bakura purred back, looking up at him with squared shoulders and half mast eyes.
Marik would have turned away and ignored them had the star-head's maroon eyes not turned to him, a look of distaste replacing the smile. "Who's this?" he asked in such a sweet, innocent voice Marik would have gagged- had he not been pinned with a hateful, "Say-you're-his-boyfriend-and-I'll-strangle-you-with-my-belt" look.
Marik opened his mouth to introduce himself, but Bakura cut him off before he could utter the first letter.
"He's a friend," he said, halfway turning to give Marik a "deny-this-and-I'll-slit-your-throat
"Great!" said the star head, his grin growing as he looked back to Bakura. "Want to dance?"
Bakura set down his beer before standing. "Of course." Without another word, he grabbed the man's arm and all but dragged him to the dancefloor.
Marik blinked. Well then. It was nice to know someone cared. He rolled his eyes and turned back to greet the brunette, who should have been standing in front of him.
But he wasn't.
He was nowhere in sight.
It took him a moment to realize what had really been going on. He'd been flirting with a straight man. He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose in shame. The things he'd thought! The signals he'd been sending! Oh gods... It was one thing to be rejected, but a whole other to be misled by a straight man.
He turned back to the bar so he wouldn't have to look at anyone but the bartender. He hesitated a moment before ordering the strongest stuff they had.
The bartender set the bottle and a shot glass full of ice in front of him, giving him a pitying look. At that, he straightened, determined not to look like a kicked puppy as he poured his first shot. Rejection happens, he reminded himself. You'll just have to be more careful next time.
No, there wouldn't be a next time. Bakura had made him lie so he could go and play. Marik could have told the other man everything... Yet he'd just sat back and let it go on. It had become painfully clear that Bakura didn't give a damn about Marik when he wasn't naked and moaning under him. The truth cut into him like a hot blade, but he'd had enough of that anemic bastard's indifference. Tonight, he resolved. Tonight, he would leave.
Still. He'd been excited to play Bakura's little game from a different perspective. He'd been sitting back all this time, just trying to detach himself while Bakura controlled all the pieces.
He was finally going to get back at him tonight...
He frowned bitterly and poured a shot.
He hardly noticed when someone sat beside him, trapped in the possible arguments he and Bakura would no doubt have later. Whoever it was ordered a cuba libre, and their husky tenor voice was enough to pull Marik from the fight in his head. Male, huh? Probably straight too, not that it mattered anymore. He heard a cup being set down on the bar before being picked up and sipped from, not looking up until he was addressed in that brilliant tenor.
"You seem a bit lonely," the man said, and he finally looked up at his neighbor.
Marik startled when he saw the brunette from earlier smirking down at him, quickly straightening his posture. What was he doing back here? Was he just here for polite chit chat, or was he worried that he'd hurt Marik's feelings? Was he just there for the drink, or was he there exclusively for Marik? Oh crap. Maybe he was one of those pushy religious types, and he was here to "cleanse" Marik of the "disease" he'd been infected with.
Or...by some strange miracle...he could have been after exactly what Marik had been after.
In any case, Marik wasn't going to admit he was lonely, even if he was terribly in need of some kind of companionship. "Hmph. I'm fine," he said, curt enough to either reassure the man, or make him question further.
Thankfully, he stayed, just as Marik had hoped he would.
"Where's your friend?" the brunette asked.
"I don't know if 'friend' is the right word for him," Marik said, swivelling in his chair to find and point Bakura out. He glowered in distaste as the sight of him and the star head man grinding- practically spooning- against each other in the middle of the dance floor. He hoped they'd at least exchanged names first.
The brunette whistled softly. He then turned back to Marik, scowling slightly. "Is he always like that?"
Marik nodded, grimacing. "He is." He turned from the sight before he got sick.
The man cleared his throat softly, but Marik heard it anyway. Oh, gods. He hoped he didn't think Marik was like that. He struggled to think of something casual to say to derail that train of thought, but the man looked at him then, and their eyes met, and Marik's words died on his lips.
"Your friend has low standards."
Marik blinked, confused, then he laughed. He'd been thinking the same thing for the past month. "Well, I can't say you're wrong."
The man hummed, looking so lost in his thoughts Marik was surprised when he replied. "If I were him, I would have looked to my right."
Marik actually glanced to his right before he realized what the other man meant. He blinked again, blushing. He forced it away and frowned, as if ignoring the complement. Inside, though, he was jumping victoriously. "No, he'd rather fuck complete strangers."
The man's mouth tipped to the side in a lopsided frown. "Still, he's a fool for choosing that man over you." He turned to Marik, that frown turning into something more pleasant. "However, lucky for me."
Marik slowly stirred his drink with his finger. How had he thought this man was gay?
"A little sure of yourself, aren't you?"
The man smirked back. "I don't think so. Not with the way you were staring at me earlier."
Marik's heart gave a startling skip. He regarded the brunette for a moment before asking for his name.
"Seto Kaiba," he said confidently, as if he'd said it a million times.
Marik paused for a moment. He recognized the name. How could he not? He couldn't even turn on the TV without hearing the Kaiba name attached to some new toy or gadget. He was only the youngest and probably even richest inventor in Japan!
And he was actually flirting with Marik.
Trying to remain cool, Marik rested his arm on the bar, still stirring his drink. "Marik Ishtar."
Marik frowned and shrugged. "The name is, but I'm Egyptian."
Seto nodded, his brow stitching. "Right. I've never been to Egypt before."
Marik shrugged again. "You're not missing much."
Seto clicked his tongue. "Maybe... But I've been asked to sponsor quite a few archeology digs there."
"All they're going to find is a bunch of old dead guys in pretty holes." He dismissed the subject with a slight wave of his hand.
Seto cocked his head. "Didn't ancient Egyptians used to think of their pharaoh as a god?"
Marik waved his hand in the air. "I'm not that caught up on my heritage..." Especially since it had been whipped into him almost every day.
Seto nodded understandingly. "Is that why you moved to Japan?"
"That's half the reason." Hmm... Things were getting a little boring. He needed to step it up a little.
"And the other half?"
Marik looked up at him, a playful smile moving over his lips. "More sexual freedom." He finally took his finger from his drink, putting it in his mouth and sucking the alcohol from it.
Seto smirked, his eyes narrowing again. "As good a reason as any."
"Mhmm," Marik hummed as he slid his finger from his mouth, his tongue following for a second before licking his lips clean and slipping back inside. Seto watched him, a greedy look passing over his face, and he couldn't help but smirk victoriously. With his other hand, he reached out and looping one finger around Seto's necklace, gently tugging him forward. It had been established that Seto was interested in him, and from the look on his face, he didn't mind much being pulled around. Marik could afford for make the first move shamelessly. He wanted this to happen now more than ever. He had his pawn, practically in the palm of his hand. All that needed to do was put it into play.
He gave Seto another playful smile, his mouth playing innocent while his eyes burned with lust. "Especially since everyone in Japan seems to be inhumanly gorgeous."
Seto smirked, his eyes going half mast as they met Marik's. "I could say the same for Egypt."
"Would you like a quick tour?" he grinned. Oh, gods, that was so cheesy! Why did he say that? But it worked, right? Flirting was all about blending clever and cliche remarks.
He tugged on Seto's necklace again, leaning up a little this time. "I could show you some infamous Egyptian hospitality, if you'd like."
Seto smirked even wider, those blue eyes flashing dangerously as he continued to lean in, though Marik had stopped pulling his necklace. "Hmm...I'd love that."
Marik, not to outdone, and now having the other man's permission- not that he needed it- leaned up, tilting his head slightly as he pressed his lips against Seto's. Seto's lips moved slowly against his, returning the slight pressure, but going no further. As if testing him. Marik wondered what he had to do to get a passing grade, them made the most obvious choice. He turned so his entire body was facing Seto, opening his mouth in invitation. The other man was quick to oblige, as if he'd been waiting just for that.
Marik let out a small sigh as his tongue rolled and fought with Seto's, having to steady himself with a hand on the brunette's knee. He leaned closer and kissed Seto more enthusiastically, suddenly fighting him for dominance. Bakura never let him top, but maybe Seto was into that thing...
Though, on the contrary, he seemed determined to have Marik submit to him. Sensing this, Marik pulled his tongue back into his mouth in mock defeat. When Seto moved to invade, Marik nipped lightly at his tongue. The brunette growled softly as Marik chuckled, and he felt Seto's hand move to the nape of his neck to hold him in place as he kissed the blond ever harder. This time Marik couldn't help but submit with a small moan, melting into the kiss as he let Seto in without a fight.
Seto hummed in approval and used his hand to angle Marik's head up more, kissing him deeply. His tongue explored Marik's mouth as the younger man moaned and occasionally tried to nudge Seto's tongue off course with his own. After what seemed like hours, Seto's tongue returned to Marik's to coax it back into action. Marik was more than happy to do so, and the two muscles twisted and danced together once more.
Oh, this man knew his way around a kiss. Marik hadn't gotten so turned on from making out alone since he was a virgin. But the alcohol in his system, and Bakura's little game in his mind, combined with Seto's hands on him, and his tongue in his mouth, made him almost so horny it hurt. It wasn't about Bakura's cheating anymore, or his revenge... He just needed Seto, right there and now.
Sneakily, his free hand slipped up to rest against Seto's thigh, fingers tracing the shape of his leg through his pants. He heard Kaiba pull in a breath between kisses. Taking that as encouragement, he slid his hand further upwards, finding Seto's pants growing tighter and tighter, until his palm cupped around the bulge in his pants. Seto groaned, pulling away.
"Not here," he said, his voice a bit shaken.
Marik whined and tried to kiss him again, giving him a soft squeeze.
Seto growled and grabbed his hands, pushing him away. "I said, not here."
"Then let's go somewhere else," Marik retorted, pulling his hands away with a frown. Seto glared back for a moment, and Marik wondered if he'd crossed the line somehow. He didn't even know Seto... What if he'd insulted him somehow? What if Seto didn't want him anymore?
But then Seto sighed and stood up, grabbing Marik's arm to pull him up with him. "My place is fine," he said authoritatively, starting to move towards the exit. "That okay with you?"
Marik let the relief wash over him before stopping suddenly, making Seto jerk to a stop. When the other man looked back at him, Marik grinned.
"I like the bathrooms better."
Seto fixed him with an incredulous stare. "That wasn't the question."
"I know." Marik grinned up at him. He didn't have to look up too far, especially with his boots. Still, there was a height difference that didn't go unnoticed. He grabbed Seto's arm and changed courses towards the restroom. "But I wanna do it in the bathroom."
"Marik, people are constantly going in and out of there," the brunette continued to protest, even though he matched Marik's quick pace stride for stride.
"Exciting, isn't it?"
"One would think doing it in a bed was excitement enough." Seto ran a hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh.
Marik grinned. Truth was, Marik just couldn't wait until they arrived at the Kaiba estate. He needed it right now.
They had reached the bathrooms, and Marik turned back to Seto with an impish grin, pushing the door open with his back against the wood. "You don't get out much, do you?" he wondered with a pitying tone. He stepped inside the white and green bathroom, pulled Seto inside and letting the door swing shut behind them.
"You just get out too much," Seto retorted in a scolding voice, smirking down at him. For a short, microscopic moment, they stood there and studied each other, sizing each other up, trying to guess what the other would say, what he would do next.
After the moment was over- it had lasted mere seconds, but it had seemed to stretch out for minutes- Marik took a step closer, eyeing Seto with a grin. "Guilty," he purred with a devious smirk. From here on out, this was a game, no different than the games Bakura played with him. Only, Kaiba wasn't in on it. He was an unknowing participant. A pawn.
The man moved forward so he and Marik were inches apart. He took the blonde's arm and began ushering him into a stall.
Before Seto could even take one step towards that sickly green stall, Marik grabbed his arms and spun him around, pinning him against the nearest wall. He caught Seto's wrists and held each against the wall, moving so their bodies were close but not touching.
"Out in the open," he said in a slightly hushed voice, his thumbs rolling over the vein in Kaiba's wrist.
The brunette looked a bit peeved at their position, but smirked, raising an eyebrow defiantly. "You have no shame, do you?" he questioned arrogantly, as if being pinned by some foreigner he'd just met less than an hour ago didn't intimidate him at all.
Marik chuckled both at the accusation and his cockiness. Of course, he'd probably be the one to finally submit that night- but not before he had some fun with Seto. "None that I know of," he admitted, slowly pressing himself closer to the other man.
Seto let out a slow breath as their hips molded together. "I bet you still would, even if you did."
Marik pretended to pout, feigning a hurt expression. "Did you just imply that I'm a slut?" he asked in a childish voice.
Kaiba clicked his tongue and surveyed the other man from head to toe. "Well, based on our current whereabouts and positions..."
The blonde growled softly and kissed him hard to silence him, nipping at his lips playfully. Kaiba groaned, fingers splaying out as his wrists worked to free themselves. Marik held them tight, not giving up and inch to him, lest he free himself before Marik could have his fun with him. He pushed their bodies closer together, kneeing Kaiba's legs apart so he could get his own between them. He pressed his leg up into the curve of Kaiba's pants and shivered as the taller man moaned and sucked on his tongue as a response. He did it again, but this time Kaiba was ready for it and moved his hips to avoid it, chuckling into Marik's mouth as the blonde growled.
They parted, gasping for air, lids heavy with lust. Marik's hands slowly moved from the other's hands and up his arms, to his chest and down the length of his torso. Kaiba tried to move as he did this, but Marik pressed him firmly against the wall. "Don't move," he said in a deep, commanding voice, wanting to know just how much he could get away with. His fingers danced down to Kaiba's hips and the man once again tried to move from his grasp. He growled and pushed his body against his again. "I said don't move."
"I don't like being ordered around," was Kaiba's only reply. His fingers moved under the shoulder pads in Marik's jacket and began pushing it off his frame, and Marik let it fall to the floor. Kaiba's hands were now rubbing up and down his arms, tracing the well defined muscles with the tips of his fingers. The Egyptian shivered at the light touches. Ooh, those were nice, and became even nicer when Kaiba began kissing his shoulders. This wasn't something he was used to. He'd had a few other lovers before Bakura, but all of them had been rough, all teeth and fingernails, all over him, making him squirm more in pain than pleasure. Kaiba was the exact opposite. He would nip, and he would scratch, but then his lips or finger pads would move across the wound and sooth it, making him shiver and jerk every time he did it.
"Kaiba," he found himself gasping after only a few minutes of this. The brunette looked up from his collar bone and cocked an eyebrow. Marik quickly caught his lips in a messy kiss before Kaiba could continue, and he felt a few bolts of pleasure go straight to his groin when Kaiba moaned and kissed back. Shit, it had never been this good, never, and they weren't even out of their clothes. That would change. His hands went from Kaiba's hips to the front of his pants, snapping the buttons open before Kaiba knew what happened.
He began pushing the tight pants down. There was a gasp, and then hands were on his, stopping his actions. Marik scowled up at the man, but Kaiba looked calm. "Last chance to go in one of the stalls, or even better, my place."
Marik blinked, confused by what he meant at first, but then he grinned and let out a bark of a laugh. In answer to his, as Marik saw, challenge, he slid down the length of his legs until he was kneeling on the floor in front of him. He heard Kaiba's breath hitched, a sign he had already figured out what Marik was about to do. It made the blonde smirk, and he leaned in and began lapping at the restrained bulge in front of him, delighted to hear Kaiba's breathy moans. He put his lips around it and sucked, then raked his teeth across it. That got the most delicious groan from Kaiba, and a buck of the hips, so he did it again. And again. He loved watching Kaiba so wound up like this- he never got to do the winding. Now he knew why all the guys he'd slept with loved topping. The excitement from the man under you just made you more excited, more turned on knowing you were the one making them feel that way.
After a few more sucks and nips, he pushed Kaiba's pants down further, having a bit of trouble since they were real leather and not some stretchy imitation, but after some work and a bit of help from the wear he was able to free Kaiba's erection from its cage. He grinned at Kaiba's hiss, watching the man's face carefully. He leaned in and blew at the tip of him. Kaiba shivered and his knees bended. Marik pressed his hands to his thighs to keep him upright and gave Kaiba a slow teasing lick up the side of his cock. Kaiba gave a half groan half sigh, and a pale hand combed into his hair. It didn't urge or force him to continue, nor did it pull him away. It was just...there. It would have startled him if he would allow that, but for now he ignored it and wrapped his lips around the side of Kaiba's shaft.
The man once again moaned, and he hand tightened into a fist, pulling a few strands of hair but doing no more. Marik looked up at him, confused, but Kaiba only smirked down at him and licked his lips. This in turn made Marik shiver, and he wrapped his lips around Kaiba's tip before he could assume something was wrong and make himself stop. The CEO let out a long breath as he did so, the hand finally moving to pull him closer. He knew this feeling; the pain from the hair pulling and the force to suppress his gag reflex, the strain on his jaw from being mouth fucked.
But it never came.
Once again he looked up at Kaiba with slightly confused eyes though he did not stop what he was doing. The brunette was watching him, ears tipped with red, and cocked an eyebrow.
"You seem uncertain," he said, more of a statement than anything else. Marik shrugged and wiggled his tongue along the edge at the underside of the penis, trying to distract Kaiba. The man moaned but pulled away. Marik let out a whine of protest and reached for him again, but Kaiba held him at bay.
"You don't want to do this, do you?" He asked softly. His tone was flat and his eyes looked troubled, but not necessarily concerned. Marik's mouth flopped open.
"What? No! Of course I do. You're just... not acting like all my other..." Lovers was not the correct word to use, but he couldn't think of anything else. Thankfully Kaiba knew what he meant.
"And how did all the others act?"
"Demanding," Marik answered simply, shifting so he would be more comfortable while he waited for Kaiba to jam his dick back into his mouth. "And abusive. More vocal. Insulting."
Kaiba's eyes widened slightly, but he was far from shocked, or even surprised. "I'm not like that."
"And I won't be like that, so if you're telling me you want me to-"
"I'm not." Marik glared up at him, beginning to regret his choice in partners. Ooh, why hadn't he just slid up to that scarred man and his blonde friend? He could have charmed them into a threesome.
"Then why do you keep looking up at me like you expect me to?"
"Because I expect you to. I've never fucked someone so gentle before."
Kaiba laughed, but the sound had no mirth. He let his hips fall forward again, and Marik cautiously leaned forward. "I'm not as gentle once you get to know me," he said vaguely, his words faltering slightly as Marik's mouth returned to him. The blonde wanted to ask if there would be any chance for them to get to know each other, but just as he pulled away to speak, another couple came crashing in through the door, giggling and clinging to one another.
The two just froze, too shocked if anything to pull away and act normal. Especially Marik. His body had shut down, and now only his eyes moved, locked onto the taller of the two males that had intruded and staying on him. Bakura and his star head friend. A sinking feeling hit Marik's gut. Yes he had wanted Bakura to find out about this, but not like this! Not in the middle of it!
The two finally stopped grinding against each other long enough to notice the other couple, and Kaiba had enough decency to pull away and cover himself. Marik and Bakura's eyes locked. All of a sudden rage filled Bakura's lust-drunk eyes, and his face reddened.
"The fuck are you doing, Marik?!" he demanded, stepping away from his buddy. Marik flinched away, his eyes focusing on a puddle of water under the sink instead of any of the others.
"It doesn't concern you," he muttered, and Bakura took another step closer.
"The hell it doesn't! I'm gone for two seconds and when I finally find you you're giving some other guy head? What the fuck is wrong with you, you cheating slut!"
That was it. Marik stood, his purple eyes boiling with anger. His fists clenched at his sides, ready to strike once Bakura got close enough. "Oh, like you haven't cheated on me before. You had a different lover each night and none of them were me. So sue me if I thought our relationship was over."
"If you thought that, why did you stay?"
"I had nowhere else to go!"
"Why did you let me fuck you, even after you found out?"
Marik opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out. Because there were none. No words, no reason. No reason except that it had all been apart of the game in his head. An unwritten rule he had to follow. Did that make him a slut? And, Bakura had still cheated first. Was he really a cheater? He looked at Kaiba, but the man wouldn't meet his eyes. He looked angry. He should be.
Marik looked back at Bakura, who was glaring at him. He opened his mouth again, but shook it, still having no excuse. He let it close with a click of his teeth.
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Fucking slut. Let's go Yami." Bakura turned and grabbed the spikey-haired man, but with a soft growl, he pulled away.
"Oh no you don't. You told me you were single, you dirty liar." Bakura looked shocked to say the very least, even more so when Yami's hand struck out and slapped him. "Don't ever speak to me again!" And with that the punk was gone, out the doors, leaving Bakura to oggle the spot he'd stood in. Marik would have been satisfied with that, had his stomach not been tied in a painful knot.
Kaiba stood by silently and waited for the fight to end.
Bakura rounded on Marik, giving his cheek the same treatment Yami had given him, but much harder. The blond stumbled back and held his face, looking more wounded than ever. The Brit took a deep breath, let it out, then turned. "Come get your stuff in two days or I'm burning it all."
Marik gaped at him. "Bakura, yo-"
"Two days!" Bakura shrieked, not sparing Marik one glance before he stomped out of the room.
Neither man spoke for several minutes, Kaiba leaning against the wall like a statue, Marik combing his hands through his hair again and again in an attempt to keep the emotion inside. After what felt like hours, Kaiba finally spoke.
Marik looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry."
"You should be."
Kaiba studied him for a moment, then pushed off the wall. "You should have told me."
"It doesn't matter now. What's done is done. I have to start looking for a new place to live. I can't wish I'd done things differently."
Kaiba stared at him again, but finally turned away and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Good luck with that. And when you do, make sure you take your hook ups there, not here."
Marik scowled at him, not sure if he was joking or if he was totally serious. His face revealed nothing. Marik nodded and didn't answer.
When the silence lingered for a few minutes longer, Kaiba turned to the door, looking to leave himself. On instinct, Marik lunged forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. "Don't go yet."
"We're not continuing."
Marik flushed red. "I never said I wanted to, you prick!"
Kaiba was unphased. "Then what?"
Marik glared at him, wondering if he should actually do this or not. But staring into Kaiba's eyes, remembering how captivating they'd been, how they'd lured him in, how magnificent they looked when filled with lust, lust for him...that changed his mind. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper with his phone number on it. He had already prepared it just in case his one night stand turned out to be a one night you-won't-walk-for-a-week. It was more embarrassing now than it was when he thought about it, but he pressed the paper to Kaiba's palm regardless.
"I don't expect you to call, but at least take it...In case you do..."
Kaiba studied him for a moment, his face still as unreadable as ever. He looked at the paper and his eyes narrowed. Without any warning, he'd ripped the paper in half, quarters, eighths. He let the pieces fall to the ground and slapped his palms together as if he had gotten his hands dirty. Looking once more at the now devastated Marik, he nodded, then turned and walked out.
Marik groaned as he flopped down onto his bed- more of a cot, really- and toed off his shoes. Work had been exhausting. He'd never had to work in his life but now suddenly he was working every finger to the bone just to be able to pay for the rent to this place. Not to mention food and other necessities. The same night Bakura had told him to get his stuff, he did, not wanting to wander around and think of how easily he'd been crushed; both by Bakura and Kaiba. Then he took his savings and rented the cheapest apartment he could find. It was a three room little thing, no more than ten square feet. There was a bedroom, kitchen, and a smaller than small bathroom tucked in the corner, It was hell compared to the fancy apartment Bakura was able to afford because of his job- going around and stealing things- but it would have to do until he could afford something more roomy. Even with working, he'd had to sell many of his items to pay advanced rent. But at least he wouldn't have to worry about it at the end of the month.
He groaned again as he barely shifted to pull his pillow closer. Every muscle hurt, even his eyes hurt. He was glad the place had only one window in the kitchen and the rest of the apartment was dark. His eyes had watered all the way home. He scrunched them closed to make sure they were dry, then opened them wide, hoping none of the light that actually got in hurt. It didn't, but his eyes were drawn to a flashing red light across the room. He blinked and forced himself to sit up, then shuffle over to see what it was.
It was his answering machine.
Another curious blink. He had almost forgotten he'd brought it over, much less set it up. It had been both his and Bakura's when they lived together, but since Marik had actually paid for it, he figured he had the ownership rights. He pressed the button to see the most recent calls. Bakura, three weeks ago, Bakura, Bakura, Bakura, a creepy old boyfriend, Bakura, Bakura's brother, Bakura, his sister, a salesperson, Bakura, Bakura... Bakura had often called their house when he was away to make sure Marik was still home.
The only one he didn't recognize was "524-2226". He frowned and nearly deleted it, but he stopped. It was stupid, and too hopeful on his part, but the numbers... He checked the keypads.
The number spelled out "Kaiba Co."
Marik swallowed and shakily, hesitantly, pressed the flashing red button.
"You have one new message. Message one. Beep!"