Dark Roses

Disclaimer - Don't own them.

Author's Notes - Thank you to all the well wishers on my rl problems. They are now sorted out . . . I'm now a single mother of three. Not quite sure how I feel about that - on one hand I'm relieved, but on the other I'm a little upset, I guess. So if you see my stories starting to get a bit darker, a bit less 'happily ever after' I hope you'll forgive me. I'm not sure it'll happen, just consider this a head's up.
At any rate, here's another chapter of Roses. I'm also posting another chapter of Going On. So enjoy, and review. Give me something to smile about as I face these sudden changes in my life, would ya?

Oh . . . and that reminds me. To certain reviewers who brought up the 'misleading and disappointing' summary for Roses, here is my response.
I'm sorry you found the story so disappointing. If you were looking for a Malik/Marik story where they already have a developed relationship, then this is obviously not the place for you. I write angst, and drama, and romance . . . I am not one to jump into a character relationship. In this story, both Malik and Marik have issues to deal with before they get together, so there isn't going to be much of them as a couple until later on. My apologies that this isn't what you wanted, but this is how I write.

With that said, on with Roses.

Chapter 10 – Observance


Malik sighed, running a hand through his hair raggedly as he stared down at his school books in annoyance. While he had taken the advance courses in most of these classes in his last school, putting him ahead in just about all of them, missing lectures didn’t help him recall what he’d been taught.

Leaning back in his chair, he popped his spine, a slight shiver of relief accompanying each subtle snap as it released the built up tension of sitting hunched over for so long. Calculus was such a boring subject . . .

Three weeks had passed since his brush with his father’s goons. His sister and brother had left two days afterwards, stopping by to see him on the way out of town. He’d been sorry to see them go, and more than a little frightened . . . he was on his own now.

He shook his head, reminding himself once again that it wasn’t true. He wasn’t on his own . . . he had real, true friends now.
Not one night since moving in had he slept alone. If it wasn’t Ryou, it was Yugi sharing his bed with him, and more often than not it was both. Nothing further had occurred between them like the first night . . . but he was comfortable with that. He was comfortable with them . . . holding them close, having them touch him. And after that first night, they had always left the light on.

After years of sleep plagued by nightmares, he’d had weeks without so much as a single night of disturbed rest. He’d never felt so rested . . .nor so at peace with his current situation.

But he couldn’t help but wonder how this was affecting Yami and Bakura. They had been kind to him, and here their boyfriends were spending their nights with him. Actually, he hadn’t even seen much of the older boys, come to think of it. They had been giving him a lot of his own space the past three weeks. What if he was unintentionally causing problems between them and their lovers? That would be a horrible way to repay them for helping him . . .

Looking up at the window, he noticed that it was getting dark. He turned on the lamp, glancing around the room absently as he thought.

It was beginning to really look like a haven, now. A stereo system resided in one corner of the room, Delirium playing from the speakers softly. A small fire crackled cheerfully in the stone fireplace, warming the room and giving it a soft, almost homey glow as it illuminated the white covered bed and the cream colored carpet. A television and DVD player sat near his desk, the remote on the small table beside the bed. The small bookshelf beside the door held several novels already . . . ones that he had read ravenously and lovingly, enjoying the fantasy worlds they allowed him to escape into.

Everything in the room had been gifts . . . right down to the laptop that currently resided next to his books on his desk. He didn’t understand why they were doing this, but he appreciated it. For the first time in his life, he really felt like he had a home. Even if it was temporary.

He held no illusions as to his time here . . . he knew it had to end eventually. His father would eventually discover that he was no longer with Ishizu and Odion . . . and then the hunt would return here. Then he would have to move on, before he put them all in danger. Until then, though, he would cherish the time he had here and the new friends he had made.

Of course, there was something else that had been praying upon his mind lately. Or rather, someone else - Marik. He had seen his twin a bare handful of times after that first night, and each time there had been something in those violet eyes that confused him. Those eyes seemed to darken with pain every time they looked at him . . . but there was determination there too. And something else . . . something that defied his understanding, no matter how often he lay at night thinking about it.

Had he done something to anger the other blonde? He couldn’t think of anything . . . but then, hadn’t he angered his father by breaking rules he didn’t know existed often enough? He shuddered, shoving that thought firmly out of his mind. Marik was certainly not his father. If he had done something wrong, they would have told him . . . of that, he was sure.

Strangely enough, he found himself yearning for Marik’s presence. Now that he knew the night of the party hadn’t been some sadistic joke, that they had honestly been trying to help him, and that Yami really had forgotten to turn the security camera off, he’d found himself dwelling quite often on the strange feelings he’d had toward the other blonde that night. Waking up in Marik’s arms had been the first time before these past few weeks that he’d felt truly safe upon returning to consciousness . . . which was odd.
He could understand that feeling where Yugi and Ryou were concerned . . . the two were so innocent it was almost frightening. Waking with either of them, or both as had often enough been the case lately, was like coming to under a warm blanket after falling asleep in the snow. But Marik . . . Marik was dangerous and dark. So how in the world could he have felt so safe in his arms? So . . . loved?

That was it, wasn’t it? Marik’s gentleness, which had belied everything he knew of the teen, had startled him. But, could it be love? He’d never experienced it before, so he couldn’t honestly say he’d know it when he saw it. Besides, they barely knew each other! He . . . was he actually developing intimate feelings toward Marik?

Rising from his desk, he padded across the floor to his bed, sinking down onto it to stare up at the ceiling, running that thought through his mind. It just wasn’t possible, he decided. Love at first sight was a fairytale . . . a plot for fantasy stories and romance novels. It didn’t happen in real life.

A knock on the door drew his attention and he turned toward it, curious. Yugi and Ryou usually walked right in . . .

“Come in!” Lavender eyes widened as the very object of his thoughts walked into the room, balancing a tray of food along with a bag of . . . something.

“Hi,” Marik said, setting the tray on the desk before turning back to the bed and its occupant. Seeing Malik sprawled across that white coverlet had set his heart to racing, and he fought back the urge to just kiss him senseless until that body lay prone beneath him. “Yami mentioned that you hadn’t come down for dinner, so I figured I’d bring you some up and see how you’re doing.”

He’d tried to avoid Malik for the last few weeks, in the hopes that this strange attraction to him would fade . . . or at least dim down enough that he could get himself back under control. Apparently, it wasn’t working . . . if anything, staying away was making it worse, not better. Just another sign of what Yami had said was true. He was falling in love with Malik.

The kid was an enigma, wrapped in one hell of a beautiful package . . . as narcissistic as that sounded. Those lavender eyes had hardness to them, but when he was around Yugi and Ryou . . . Marik shrugged, putting the thought out of his mind. Malik wasn’t ready for a relationship, if he ever would be. He would just have to clamp down on himself and behave . . . no matter how much he didn’t want to at the moment.

“I brought you some more books,” he murmured, settling into the desk chair. “Ryou said you had pretty much raced through the ones you had.” Malik nodded, sitting up slowly so that he was on the edge of the bed instead of sprawled across it. Now that Marik was in the room with him, he felt . . . odd. Not frightened, or wary, but something was different. But he would be damned before he figured out what.

“Yeah . . . I’ve been going through them pretty fast,” he replied quietly after a moment. “I just . . .”

“They help you escape,” Marik finished for him as he paused. “I know the feeling. I was a pretty ravenous reader myself, when I first moved in with Seto after my father was put in jail. It’s . . . an escape, into someone else’s life, another world where there isn’t so much pain.”

Malik nodded, blonde hair falling forward to shield his eyes unconsciously. It still astounded him, how much Marik understood what he was feeling. He wouldn’t have thought anyone could know the feeling of being trapped in a life they didn’t want, scarred by the past that had been forced upon them . . . but Marik did. The others tried, reaching out to him, but it was Marik that always seemed to know what was going through his mind.

Sitting there, watching Malik withdraw slightly, actually hurt. Before Marik had really realized what he was doing, he had risen from the chair and sank onto the edge of the bed, a careful distance from Malik, but within touching distance. Yeah, he’d gotten more comfortable around all of them since coming to live with them, but Marik didn’t want to press his luck, especially not when they were alone.

“Malik,” he murmured, “If you ever want to talk . . . I know it’s difficult, talking about it, but . . . I’m here. Really. Ryou and Yugi aren’t the only ones worried about you, and you can trust all of us. We just want to help.” He went to rise after there was only silence, not wishing to do anymore damage, or push too hard . . . and gasped when Malik reached out, grabbing his arm and holding him in place.

“It is difficult . . .” he whispered, his hair still hiding his eyes as he sat there, only his arm having moved, one hand lightly resting on Marik’s arm. “I . . . I know you guys are trying to help me . . . and I appreciate it. But . . . it’s so difficult, letting someone in emotionally after so long keeping them out, you know? I still don’t even understand why you all are doing this for me . . . you barely even know me. And this . . . all of this, it’s only temporary. I can’t hide from my father forever. Eventually he’ll be back, and I’ll have to move on. I don’t want to cause any of you the trouble that he’ll bring.”

Marik simply couldn’t help it. He reached over, gentle fingers using light pressure to raise those lavender eyes upward to meet his own violet gaze before he leaned forward, pressing a light, undemanding kiss to those upturned lips. He felt Malik stiffen and quickly ended it, not wanting to press his luck.

“If he brings trouble, then he’s only going to find more. You’re safe here, and we’re not going to let you go,” he whispered, and then left before the urge to kiss that shocked mouth, lavender eyes wide and surprised, overwhelmed him again. The taste and feel of those lips against his own lingered with him, however, even as he strode down the hallway to his own room, and he licked his lips unconsciously to get any of it that lingered.

Unwanted sensations flowed through his blood, and he growled before shucking off his clothing and heading for a very cold shower. He always chose the hard path in life . . . it was a curse, and when he found whatever god had laid it on him, he was going to seriously rip them a new one.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*

Late into the night, that single moment lingered in Malik’s mind, keeping him awake even as Yugi slept beside him. That Marik had kissed him hadn’t surprised him all that much . . . he’d been on the receiving end of more brief kisses these past three weeks then he’d ever gotten in his life, and he’d learned not to lock up on them, accepting that it wasn’t meant as anything more than a show of affection for him.

Marik’s kiss, earlier . . . had not been simply ‘affectionate’. Although it had been just as gentle as Ryou or Yugi could manage, there had been a depth of emotion behind it that had both scared him and intrigued him. But he couldn’t explain it, or categorize it . . . and that bothered him.

Finally, giving up on sleep, he slid from the bed, tucking the covers with a soft smile around Yugi before padding softly from the room, clad in a pair of cutoff’s and a sleeveless t-shirt that were his equivalent of sleeping garments. His mind was just simply too restless for him to pass out.

The house was silent, but not dark, thanks to Yami. Knowing his fear of the dark, Yami had taken to leaving a few lights on in the more traveled areas of the house, with a severe warning to the hired help that if any of them got shut off, he would have their heads the next morning. Malik had been astounded, and touched, that Yami was willing to do such a radically abnormal thing, simply for him. It was just one more thing that had shown him his leap of faith in them had been fully justified.

The den was lit only by the fireplace, making him wary of walking in there, but the television in here was the only one currently hooked up to cable, and he needed something mindless to watch for a bit so he could calm his mind and eventually sleep. He padded softly into the room, intent on the light switch . . . and froze as two figures came into view on the fur rug before the crackling fire.

Sweat sparkled like diamond dust on pale skin, white hair glowing in the flickering light as the two figures moved against each other, hands smoothing over flawless flesh, tangling in pale hair as Ryou moaned, writhing against the fur and his lover desperately.

“Oh gods . . . ‘Kura,” he whispered, the words falling from his lips softly. “You’re too good at this.”

Bakura raised his head, magenta eyes glowing with love in the dim light, looking up over Ryou’s flushed, sweat drenched body from where he had been sucking at the hard, satiny flesh of his love.

“I’m glad you approve,” he murmured. “You know I want nothing more than your happiness, Ryou.” Ryou nodded shakily, a soft smile gracing his features as he looked down the length of his body to his love.

“You may be a sadistic bastard and an asshole, Bakura . . . but you’ve never been anything but gentle and loving toward me. That’s why I love you so much.” He sighed as Bakura nuzzled the inner flesh of a thigh, laying a gentle kiss there before rising to stalk up Ryou’s slightly smaller frame, laying another kiss against those smiling lips.

“It was you that brought it out in me, love,” he whispered, laying teasing kisses along the elegant jawbone before pausing to nip lightly at Ryou’s throat. “No one has ever spoken my heart as you do . . . you’re like the other half of my soul, Ryou. I could no more live without you now than if I couldn’t breathe.”

Malik was frozen to the spot, a flush creeping over his face as he realized that he had accidentally intruded on a very private moment between the two. But he couldn’t force himself to move, either. His gaze drifted over their forms, caressing the pale curves even as he knew this was wrong and that he should leave.

Lavender eyes filled slightly with tears at Bakura’s heartfelt words . . . would anyone ever feel that way about him? Would he ever mean that much to someone? Not likely . . .

He finally forced himself to move, but even then, he couldn’t leave. Instead, he drifted deeper into the shadows, watching as silence fell between the two as they shared a passionate kiss before Bakura reached between them, and Ryou let out a choked shout of pleasure at whatever his lover had done.

“Bakura,” Ryou whined, shifting against the body pressing against him. “Don’t tease . . .”

“Tell me what you want, Ryou,” the older youth whispered, nipping at one ear as Ryou tossed his head, moaning. “You know this game . . . you have to tell me.” Ryou frowned at him before a gentle smile glided over those passion-bruised lips.

“I want you inside me,” he growled playfully, raking his nails lightly over Bakura’s back, making the slightly taller youth shiver with pleasure. “I want you to fill me and complete me . . . as you complete my soul.”

“Gods, Ryou,” Bakura moaned. “Do you have any idea what you do to me when you talk like that?” He gasped as Ryou reached down and grabbed his aching flesh, pumping it teasingly, unaware of lavender eyes watching him from the shadows.

“I want this to fill me, and take me to heaven,” he whispered. “Please Bakura . . . don’t make me wait.”

“Never, my love,” the youth murmured, shifting up on his knees. Grabbing the tube of lubricant, he slathered some over his quivering length, using the rest to cover Ryou’s passage before he shifted, and slid deep within the velvet heat, pausing for Ryou to adjust to the intrusion.

Something tickled at the back of his mind, and he glanced around the room idly. For some reason, he felt like they were being watched . . . not that it would have been a first. But usually the others announced their presence. He didn’t see anyone, and Ryou’s sudden shift, bucking up against him in a silent demand for him to move, pushed the feeling out of his mind for the moment.

Malik was astonished . . . first of all by the fact that he was still actually standing here, watching this . . . and secondly by how different it was from all he had ever experienced. He hadn’t even known that it could be done in that position . . . he had never looked on the face of the person fucking him. He had always been bent over, or on all fours. It seemed . . . much more intimate, the way Bakura and Ryou were.

The gentleness was different too. It was obvious in the way they moved, the way they touched, that they genuinely loved each other. Was this what sex was really about? Just a physical expression of the love within them and between them? Was this what it was supposed to be like?

Moving over Ryou, against him, Bakura couldn’t help but moan at the feel of it, shivering as nails dug into his shoulder’s lightly, raking over his back in a silent demand for more speed, more anything as his lover writhed beneath him, joining in the dance of their flesh against one another.

Moments like these were what made him live and breathe . . . to see Ryou beneath him, to feel how much Ryou loved him in every breath, every moan, every whispered word. He felt Ryou tighten around him as he brushed his prostate, a groan torn from his lips as his head tilted back, leaving a tempting line of pale throat for Bakura to lean down and nuzzle, teasing with nips and light kisses as he moved within the heated depths of his lover’s body.

“I love you, Ryou,” he murmured, thrusting harder into his love, listening to the whimpers of pleasure like sweet music as he pushed them both closer to oblivion and heaven.

“’Kura . . .” Ryou gasped, his back arching as a pale hand curled around his flesh, pumping gently in time with the thrusting hips. “Oh gods, I love you too . . .” He whimpered suddenly, his body tightening further, heat coiling in his groin as he felt his release approaching. “I’m going to . . .”

“Let go . . .” Bakura said. “Just let go for me, Ryou.” His thrusts became just the slightest bit harder, just a tiny bit faster and more erratic as that moist heat tightened around him.

Malik shuddered as twin shouts of completion echoed through the room, his own blood racing with a fire that he had never before experienced. He withdrew quickly, his mind whirling with what he had witnessed and heard, unable to take it all in.

Visions of Ryou and Bakura together haunted him, even as he slid into his room and moved to settle on the window seat, staring out into the dark night in agony. Such love . . . such trust . . . in an act that had held nothing but pain and humiliation for him. Would he ever be able to experience that? Or would what his father had put him through continue to destroy him from his soul outwards?

“Malik?” a sleepy voice behind him murmured. Pale arms wound around his shoulders, holding him lightly as he shuddered, tears coursing silently down his cheeks. “Malik, what’s wrong?”

Suddenly, he was desperate to prove his fears wrong, to prove that everything he felt was wrong. His hands came up, catching Yugi’s wrists in a light but desperate grip before he managed to choke the words out around the heart that had suddenly lodged in his throat.

“Yugi . . . what’s wrong with me?” he whispered hoarsely. “Why can’t I experience love like everyone else? Why can’t I let anyone that close?” He sobbed slightly, closing his eyes against the darkness only to find more within him. “Will I ever get to be normal?”
Yugi sighed, leaning against Malik lightly, resting his head on the blonde hair gently as he wrapped his arms around the young Egyptian. He wasn’t sure how to respond . . . prattling off stupid little phrases right now seemed wrong, but he didn’t know what else to say. The blonde had come so far in the last few weeks . . . slowly opening up around them, becoming much more sure of himself in their presence without the cold shell he’d had before. What had caused this relapse?

“Malik,” he murmured finally, still resting his cheek against the soft, silken strands. “What you’re father did to you is wrong. What you’ve experienced . . . that wasn’t love. It was nothing but physical lust. Someday . . . someday, someone will be able to show you the difference. I promise.” He wished he could say more, something with real meaning . . . but it seemed he’d said enough. He felt the blonde relax in his arms, and smiled slightly.

“Come on,” he whispered finally. “You should sleep.” Malik nodded, and allowed Yugi to lead him to the bed, where he fell quickly into an exhausted slumber, his head pillowed on Yugi’s lap, soft fingers stroking through his blonde locks comfortingly.

Staring down at the blonde, amethyst eyes welled slightly with tears.

“I wish I knew how to help you more, Malik,” he said quietly, and closed his eyes to join the youth in sleep.