Dark Roses

Disclaimer - I don't own them.

Author's Notes - Due to a good mood, and a full night sleep, I'm posting another chapter WAY earlier than usual. Enjoy . . . and here's for all of you Malik/Marik fanatics out there who have been disappointed by the lack of action between the two. This chapters all for you guys and gals.


Chapter 12 – Hesitant Temptation


Striding down the deserted hallway where their bedrooms were housed, Marik struggled to regain control of his anger as he cradled the blonde he’d come to love to his chest.

He was more than a little frightened at the moment . . . not only for Malik, but for himself as well. That had been too close, and too familiar. His father’s rage, his father’s brutality . . . the legacy he had been left, one that he would do anything to be rid of.

It was beyond doubt now that he had fallen, and fallen hard, for Malik. Such a violent reaction could only stem from strong emotion, and the depth of the rage he had felt when that guy manhandled the youth in his arms . . . he could have easily killed him without a second thought, and that was frightening. He hadn’t been that out of control since he’d first become free of his parents, when he was still struggling through therapy.

Violet eyes glanced downwards, taking in the ragged appearance of his burden, and his arms tightened unconsciously around the lithe body. Just as they’d gotten the blonde to truly open to them, to accept them and trust them . . . this had to happen. Would Malik recover? Or would he close himself back into his shell, never again to emerge?

Damn that asshole! Marik wanted to turn around and hunt him down all over again, slit his throat and watch him bleed for what he’d done to Malik. But as Yami had said, Malik needed him right now . . . and he’d be damned before he turned his back on that.

Maneuvering so he could open Malik’s door without dropping the youth, he strode into the room, kicking the door closed behind him. Planning on setting the blonde on his bed, he was startled when bronzed arms slipped around his neck, preventing him from rising. He looked up to find wide lavender eyes staring at him, their gaze pleading.

“Don’t leave,” Malik whispered.

“I’m just going to turn your music on, Malik,” he murmured quietly, untangling the arms from his shoulders. “I’ll be right back, I swear.” Leaving the teenager for a moment, he padded across the carpet to the stereo, hitting the power button and pushing play. Enigma’s ‘Return To Innocence’ began to drift through the room as he turned back, his eyes darkening with pain as he found Malik huddled into a ball on the bed. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around his shins as he sat against the headboard, shivering with his head buried in his arms.

He sank onto the edge of the bed carefully, not wanting to invade the boy’s personal space after such a devastating occurrence. He had to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and gathering that shaking figure into his arms.

“Malik?” he asked softly.

“It’s never going to end, is it?” the boy replied, his voice barely able to be heard from where it was muffled by his arms. “I’m never going to be normal . . . never going to escape what he did to me . . . what he made me into.” A sob hitched in his chest, nearly a hiccup of sound that cut through the gentle music like a knife. “I’m always going to be a whore . . .”

“You are NOT a whore!” Marik snapped, and instantly regretted it when the blonde head shot up, lavender eyes wide with alarm. “You’re not a whore,” he repeated more carefully, keeping his voice even. “Don’t ever think that, Malik.”

“It’s what he made me,” he said quietly. “It’s what I am.” Marik shook his head, feeling his nails digging into his palms in an effort not to reach out to his counterpart.

“No it’s not,” he murmured. “It’s what he forced you to be, but that is not what and who you are. And that’s not how any of us see you.” He couldn’t bear to see the disbelief in those lavender eyes, the disillusionment that tortured soul held. “Please, Malik . . . believe in us. Trust in us. Don’t let that asshole destroy everything you’ve gained so far.” He watched as Marik’s head bowed back down, resting on the arms that were now crossed over his knees Disappointment flooded through him . . . they were losing what little they had managed to gain, he could feel it. Because of the sudden flash of sorrow, he nearly missed what was next said.

“I do trust all of you.” Violet eyes widened, hope flickering through them as the soft statement registered. “You’ve all been so kind to me, and I can’t give you anything in return, except my trust. I know none of you would ever hurt me. I just wish there was something I could do in return . . .”

“There is,” Marik replied quietly. “Show us who you truly are. Let us get to know you . . . the real you, the you that’s been hidden for so long. That’s all we want from you . . . that’s all we ask.”

“But I don’t even know who I am,” Malik whispered, raising lavender eyes to meet violet, glimmering slightly with tears. “I pretend to be strong, to be confident . . . but I’m not. And I don’t know how else to be.”

Marik simply couldn’t take it anymore. Reaching out, he lay one hand on Malik’s arm, startling the youth, but he didn’t pull away.
“Then let us help you learn,” he said.

Malik stared at that hand resting against his arm, his mind whirling with too many emotions and thoughts for him to sort out. He’d only told the truth . . . he didn’t know anything but what he’d been taught by his father, didn’t know how to be any other way. He’d been going mainly by instinct and the seat of his pants for the last few weeks. But that shield of security had crumbled now, and he was left bereft and lost, unsure of who and what he really was. Was he a whore, as his father had made him to be? If he wasn’t . . . than what? What was he? Who was he?

What of the strange feelings he’d been having the past few weeks, the feelings of trust and happiness that swamped him when he was with the others? He felt so at peace when he was with them, like he finally belonged some where. Was that all a lie, fed by his need to belong somewhere? He just didn’t know anymore, and that worried him. He’d been questioning himself a lot lately, wondering if he was letting his heart lead him down the wrong road. Just because he trusted them . . .

They were the first people he could honestly say that about. Was the fact that he trusted them fooling him into thinking he had feelings for all of them? Having never experienced such feelings before, he couldn’t even be sure they were real or imaginary. Was it really an affectionate love for them that made him want to be different, to be better than he was? Or was it that this was the first opportunity that had ever presented itself for him to do so?

Were these feelings he suspected he had for Marik real?

“I want to learn,” he whispered unconsciously. “I want to learn if how I feel is real or just my imagination . . .”

Those whispered words tore at Marik’s heart, and he leaned forward unconsciously, reaching out to tip Malik’s head up so that he could look into those unique lavender eyes solemnly.

“Don’t ever doubt how you feel, Malik,” he murmured. “Because we feel the same way about you.” Those lips were so close . . . so very tempting, but he didn’t want to push, not after what had just happened . . . but mere inches didn’t help when he could feel every breath against his lips.

Marik rose abruptly, needing to put some distance between them before he did something that would traumatize Malik further. He was halted by a hand grabbing his, it’s grip painfully desperate, holding him from his course.

“Please, don’t leave,” Malik said, staring up at him. He didn’t know what he had done to cause the taller blonde’s sudden discomfort. “I’m sorry for whatever it is I did that bothered you . . . but . . . please, I just don’t want to be alone right now.” He shivered slightly with the memory of how close Marik had been, how easily he could have kissed his counter-part . . . how much he had wanted to do so.

“Malik, if I don’t leave now, I’m not going to be able to control myself.” The hand suddenly let go, lavender eyes staring up into violet in shock before Marik looked away. But there had been hurt there as well, and he felt the overwhelming need to explain his actions, to wipe away that hurt. He sank back onto the bed, sitting with his back to the smaller blonde.

“Malik,” he whispered, “I . . . care about you a great deal more than I think you’re ready for right now. I scare myself sometimes with how much I’ve come to care about you. But I don’t want to push you, and with what happened out there . . .” He fell silent, shifting uneasily with the sudden stillness from the boy behind him. Had he said too much already? He didn’t want to scare the youth and ruin any chance he might get . . .

Lavender eyes stared at the tense back in shock, blinking rapidly as he tried to make sense of what Marik had just said. Had Marik just said, in so many words, that he was falling in love with him? That couldn’t be right . . . could it? There was only one way to find out if Marik was having the same problem as he was. But was he ready for such a big move? Yeah, he had kissed Bakura and Ryou earlier . . . but there was nothing more than friendship, and maybe a hint of lust, between them. With Malik, there was so much more . . . so much hidden potential that he was only just beginning to understand.

The opportunity was rapidly slipping away. The longer he remained silent, the more he sensed that this teenager who was beginning to mean so much to him was withdrawing from him . . . and he didn’t want that. It hurt to even consider it.

Marik gasped as he found himself suddenly yanked backward, his back hitting the bed with a suddenness that left him breathless as he stared up into the lavender eyes of his surprising aggressor. Malik was suddenly awfully close, and when the lithe blonde moved to straddle his hips, he inhaled sharply with the contact, flames beginning to lick at the base of his spine. Gods, did the boy have no idea what he was doing to him?

“Maybe I’m ready for more than you think,” that soft tenor whispered, and violet eyes widened, only to close slowly as Malik kissed him. He fisted his hands into the comforter, trying to keep from crushing that lithe form against him as soft lips moved against his. Gods, it was so gentle . . . so tentative and hesitant, yet so damn erotic it was going to kill him.

He moaned as a wet caress begged entrance, allowing that heated muscle to delve into his mouth, exploring so softly it was almost dreamlike. Chocolate and almonds . . . it was the only thing he could compare the taste of Malik with, and his mind latched onto that in an effort to keep from wandering to other, more intimate things. He held himself terribly still, fighting his desires as he allowed his counterpart to explore him at will, knuckles whitening with the force of his grip as the fire within him only grew stronger.

Malik drew back, worried that he had done something wrong when Marik didn’t respond to his advance. He stared down into the taller blonde’s face, lavender eyes darkening. Had he been mistaken in his thoughts? What if his kiss had been unwelcome? He began to doubt himself, and drawn into his thoughts, he missed the opening of violet eyes, their depths nearly black with hunger and need.

“I’m sorry,” Malik whispered finally, looking away. “I thought . . .” He made to get off of the prone figure, disappointment and shame evident in every gesture, and gasped when Marik suddenly grabbed his hips, stilling his movement.

“Don’t be sorry,” Marik choked out, his voice husky with desire. “Gods . . . if you had any idea what you can do to a person with a kiss like that, Malik . . .” He shuddered violently, forcing back the desire to press those slim hips into his own and grind his suddenly painful erection against them, proving just how much he had enjoyed that kiss. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But you didn’t . . . you seemed like you didn’t enjoy it.” Lavender eyes finally turned back to him, confusion swirling through them, and Marik groaned before one hand rose from leather clad hip to cup the back of Malik’s neck and bring him back down into a heated kiss, very different from the one he had first initiated.

Malik practically collapsed against the prone form, heat flashing through him in a wave as Marik devoured him, tongue, lips, and teeth combining for an intoxicating experience the likes of which he had never before had. He could feel the lithe body shuddering violently against him, and wondered what was causing such a reaction before all thought fled his mind as Marik shifted against him, groaning loudly against his lips.

Suddenly he found himself on his back, staring up into dark violet eyes in surprise as Marik licked his lips to wet them, heart pounding in his chest as he struggled for breath.

“I have to stop,” the blonde whispered, fists clenching into satin cloth as he straddled Malik. “I have to leave . . . gods, Malik, what I want to do to you right now . . .” He moaned when the lithe figure beneath him shifted, clenching his knees tightly together on either side of leather clad thighs, stilling the movement. “Don’t . . . please, gods, Malik, don’t move right now,” he growled.

Malik froze, staring at him with wide lavender eyes, unsure exactly what was going on. He wanted more of something . . . he didn’t know what, but something! Anything . . . gods, what was this? He’d never felt like this before, burning for something he didn’t understand, yearning for more of what he’d never had before . . . but what was it? He felt so strange . . .

He whimpered slightly, drawing the violet eyes back to him. That gaze burned him, making him feel like he’d suddenly stepped into a furnace, and he moaned as Marik shifted against him, sending sparks across his vision before he shut his eyes.

“Marik,” he whimpered, “I . . . oh gods, I feel . . . I want . . .” He couldn’t continue, unsure exactly what it was he was trying to say. “What’s happening to me?”

That question more than anything served to help Marik get himself back under control before he did something he just knew he would end up regretting. But gods . . . at the moment, he wanted Malik so badly it was literally a physical pain.

“You’ve never felt like this before?” he asked quietly, somewhat shocked. Although he knew Malik had been an unwilling participant in the sexual encounters he’d endured so far, the fact that he’d never felt passion before, if that’s even what it was, was both frightening and confusing. What the hell had those men done to him? The human body tended to react to physical pleasure whether or not it was invited . . . how could Malik not have felt anything?

“Not . . . not like this, no,” Malik replied. “It never felt so . . . so overwhelming.” He shifted uneasily, and Marik hissed as a hip brushed his erection, which caused Malik to freeze all over again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, thinking he had caused the taller blonde some kind of pain. Violet eyes lightened slightly as Marik smiled, shaking his head before hurriedly getting off of the body beneath his, before he was tempted to take this further than it already had gone.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he murmured, rising from the bed. “But I really do have to leave, Malik. Right now, I want you so badly it hurts, and I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for. And I know you’re not ready for this . . . not yet, anyway.” He jumped slightly as there was a knock on the door before a white haired head poked in, a pale face full of concern peaking around the corner with wide chocolate eyes.

“Is Malik okay?” Ryou asked, before spying the blonde lying on the bed, lavender eyes looking at him. “MALIK!” Ryou was across the room and on the bed in a flash, hugging the blonde tightly. “Oh gods . . . when Bakura couldn’t get you to respond to him, we were so worried!” he babbled.

With Ryou as a distraction, Marik made a hasty exit . . . and ran headlong into Bakura outside the door. Magenta eyes widened as he found himself suddenly grabbed and slammed not so gently against the wall, Marik ravishing his mouth like he was ready to swallow him whole.

“Holy shit, Marik,” Bakura gasped, when he was finally allowed to come up for air. “What the fuck!?” He groaned as the blonde ground their hips together, getting hard in response to the erection grinding into him. “Shit . . .” Marik was rarely worked up this bad, and he almost never initiated intimate contact. What the fuck had happened in there?

“Bakura,” Marik growled, his breath puffing against pale flesh as he nibbled harshly at the quasi-albino’s neck. “Fucking hell . . .” He released the pale teenager reluctantly, shaking his head to clear it. “Sorry . . . I shouldn’t have jumped you like that.”

“What the hell got into you?” Bakura asked, one eyebrow arching questioningly as the blonde shifted uneasily. “I don’t think you’ve ever been quite that aggressive with any of us . . .”

“Malik . . . gods, that kid . . .”

“He kissed you, didn’t he?” Bakura murmured, and then chuckled at the expression of astonishment on Marik’s face. “Yeah, I got a taste of that earlier . . . trust me, I had the same reaction.” He leaned up and kissed the blonde again, before one pale hand reached down to caress the bulge in the black jeans gently. Marik groaned at the contact, drawing a smirk across the pale features. “I don’t think your hand is going to cure this,” he muttered. “Come on.” Turning the tall blonde around, he shoved him toward the pale teenager’s bedroom, walking behind him to keep him moving.

“Bakura . . . what the fuck are you doing?” Marik growled over one shoulder. That smirk appeared again, magenta eyes laughing, but there was a hint of hunger in their depths that made the young man shiver slightly.

“Helping you with your ‘problem’,” the white-haired youth chuckled. He stopped at the surprised look that was thrown over one black clad shoulder, shaking his head in disbelief at the expression. “Marik . . . you rarely initiate contact with any of us, and when we do draw you into things, you hold back. Malik isn’t the only one that needs to open up . . . you’re just as shielded as he is. Do you honestly think I’m going to turn you down when you’ve finally decided to open up a bit? Even if it is due to someone else? Yami would do the same thing. You have no idea how much you’ve frustrated all of us over the years.”

Reaching around the tall blonde, he opened the door to his bedroom and shoved the bronzed body inside, before stepping in after him and closing it behind them.

“Now then,” he growled, magenta eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at Marik hungrily. “The only question is . . . who’s playing bottom?”


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


Malik was slightly disappointed when Marik slipped out the door, cuddling with Ryou absently as he stared at the closed barrier. He’d calmed somewhat, but his heart was still thudding painfully in his chest, and he still felt like the room temperature was several degrees too high.

“Ryou,” he murmured finally. “What does it feel like when you’re physically attracted to someone?” Ryou sat back, curious, and seeing the serious expression in those lavender eyes, thought for a moment before responding.

“It’s different for everyone I think, Malik,” he said finally. “For me . . . when I’m with Bakura . . . it’s like a physical pain, but not a bad pain. I need him . . . I feel funny, like someone poured alcohol into my veins. Why do you ask?” Malik shook his head, looking away from the small teen, and Ryou sighed before grabbing his face gently and forcing those lavender eyes back to his own chocolate gaze. “Malik, do you think you’re attracted to Marik?”

Malik sighed, and nodded. That had to be what he was feeling . . . right? Gods, he wished he knew! He was so ill-prepared for any of this . . .

“I feel . . .” he whispered finally, closing his eyes. “I feel like I’m burning up from the inside out, like I’m hungry but not for food. Does that make any sense?”

“Yes,” Ryou murmured in reply. “It makes perfect sense, Malik. But are you sure you’re ready for that? I mean . . . are you sure you’re ready for a physical relationship? With what you’ve been through . . . that’s a pretty big step. Don’t rush into it.”

“I know,” he replied quietly, and sat back, leaning against his headboard as he stared absently at the ceiling. Ryou cuddled into him, and they sat in silence for several moments.

“Malik . . . what that guy did . . . are you okay?” Ryou asked finally. Malik sighed, but nodded slightly.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m okay . . . it just caught me off guard, and the memories got to me. I’m fine now.” Actually, he was far from fine, but it wasn’t due to what had happened at the party. What had occurred between him and Marik was something else entirely, and he was still trying to sort it out in his head. Somehow, he just knew it was going to be a long night.