Research

YRE: Well, here’s a long overdue Chapter 2, just cuz I couldn’t resist. ^_^;; …Ok, so I was bored and needed to write something plotless, happy?

Bakura: Shut yer yap… Woobah! I’m in this chapter!! XD

Marik: Baka-Kura, so am I.

YRE: ^^ Lemon, swearing, bit of blood, masturbation, and other Marik x Bakura activity… ‘Nough said, eh?

Disclaimer: …Is Ryou on every episode having graphic smex with Bakura?... No?... Then that means YRE doesn’t own anything more than a dirty mind.

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It took longer than expected.

The walk home that is.

Bakura and Marik simply couldn’t keep their hands in appropriate places, nearly having caused an elderly woman a heart attack when Marik thought it a grand idea to slam Bakura against the trunk of a tree and start ravaging the other yami like a sex-starved psycho.

Marik was obviously being himself.

“Mm, fuck, Marik…” Bakura panted lightly as the other suckled harshly on is neck, wringing out pathetic moans as Marik bit down hard enough to leave small dents, but not to tear the flesh… yet anyway.

“I plan on it, Kura…” He smirked, violet eyes flashing with demented plans and raw hunger. “And you’ll be begging me for more.”

A few more moans, and a few more pleas, but the paler managed to find his voice somewhere between wincing as the bark tore into his back and grumbling while Marik dragged him up the steps of the Bakura residence. “Hell no… I’d never beg…”

Dark lips curled into a sinister smirk, tongue running across them in a blood thirsty way. “Is that a challenge, Bakura?” And the way he said it, slathering on his Egyptian accent so the name came out in a purr, rolling up his throat, cradled with malice, made Bakura raise a brow at the question to hide the pleasurable shiver. “Do you honestly believe I couldn’t get you to beg?…”

There was a sharp chuckle, the paler yami having teased the door open with his keys, pulling them both through the sliver before slamming it shut by pressing Marik against the dark frame, the doorknob purposefully digging into the Egyptian’s back. “And do you honestly believe I would let you?” Bakura’s grin had sharpened considerably, razor-fine teeth slithering over the dark neck, tongue firmly pressing against the pulsepulsepulse of Marik’s artery.

The taller yami grunted, a wonderful mix of pleasure laced pain rippling over his system as Bakura refused to hold back, his canines piercing the warm, sun-kissed flesh in a quick snap. “Gods…” breathless and beautiful, Marik loved it when Bakura did that, loved it when Bakura hurt him, loved it when Bakura-

“Clear the coffee table for us…” Bakura sneered and pulled away, “And neatly, you fucktard, I don’t feel like hearing Ryou’s hissy fit later if you break something.”

Well… he didn’t love it when Bakura ordered him around, but it turned him on regardless, so he didn’t mind terribly.

“Then clear it yourself, asswipe.” Marik retorted, raising a gold brow even as he gently moved aside the china vase, neatly stacked magazines, and handful of glass blown menagerie… Ryou was amusingly fruity in his possessions.

A comfortable silence clung to the air as the two prepared, they didn’t need talk, yamis were made of shadows and thoughts, and every movement they made could be read and mimicked to eerie accuracy by one another without a second glance.

“Fuck, Marik. You go any slower and I’ll just have to start without you.”

The Egyptian rolled his eyes, smirking at Bakura in faux boredom. “Will you now?” He chuckled softly, taking a seat on the newly cleared coffee table with his legs spread far apart as he leaned back and kept himself level with his hands. “Then by all means, Bunny… Show me.”

Bakura emitted a low growl, he hated, simply loathed that damn nickname, and Marik knew it. “Just for that, I will.”

There was an amused chuckle, the Egyptian not taking any threat to Bakura’s pissed off antics seriously even as the paler yami sat himself on the sofa and kicked off his shoes, shrugging out of the blue school jacket, and continuing on his mission to strip himself of everything, all the while Marik watched. It took only several moments, ticked off by the taller boy as he smirked slowly in appreciation of the exposing flesh, slowly shedding his own jacket and fingering the buttons on his shirt before he paused and blinked questioningly at Bakura.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” He was barely able to finish the statement without biting back a quiet moan at watching the paler’s actions, throat going remarkably dry suddenly.

Bakura’s fingers danced in fluid motions over his own length, head tossed back against the soft cushion of the sofa while his lidded eyes curled with mirth when he noted the Egyptian licking his upper lip slowly when Bakura dared to part his legs particularly wide for a better show. “I told you… I’m starting without you.”

Certainly he couldn’t mean that? Marik gave the other yami a dumbfounded look; this had never occurred before, usually they were on each other and half way through their first session of sex by now. “You can’t do that! I’m supposed to jack you off while ramming myself up your ass, you know the routine!”

A snort and a cruel chuckle were his reply, pale digits only increasing their friction against the flush arousal in their grip. Bakura squirmed on the sofa with a low purr at his own ministrations, one leg now stretched to settle a heel on the edge of the coffee table while the other hooked over the armrest.

Somehow, not exactly clear on the details though, Marik found himself rooted to his spot rather than ravaging the other yami senseless, tongue flicking over his lips and teeth in one starved swipe as he looked on at the tempting presentation before him.

“Gods, Kura…” Marik’s voice was strained with lust, suddenly becoming all too aware of the clothes he still wore since he was becoming rather warm as the material became clingy across his body.

“Mm…” the paler yami smirked, giving a keen as he flicked his thumb over the head of his arousal and slowly rubbed it more forcibly, puffs of breath causing his chest to rise and fall slightly faster, the flush rising to his cheeks matching faintly with the one which spreading just along his collarbone. Murky brown eyes lidded heavily, giving the pale thief a pleasure-drugged look, erotic moans and whimpers freely slipping past his lips as Bakura bucked his hips just enough so the stiffening arousal would brush against his palm and working fingers, eliciting further noises.

Every sound and broken movement the paler made was causing Marik much discomfort, of the horny kind. His spine tingled with each moan, dusky skin rippling in hunger as his eyes dimmed to pools of lust-livid violet, the Egyptian’s very fingers trembling as they clenched at the edge of the coffee table he remained perch upon.

“Re… Mm, yes…” Like the hiss of a volatile viper, Bakura’s canines were bared when he allowed the rush of breath to escape with his words as his fist tightened about his pulsing erection, brown eyes dazed and locking now with the other yami only several feet away. Slender fingers curled out toward Marik, fluidly crooking in an enticing invitation, the paler of the two giving a low growl as his fingernails dug into the slowly slicking warmth of his own flesh.

The Egyptian somehow managed to keep from thoroughly plundering every inch of Bakura’s being in one sweeping motion, his body lunging toward the other and merely attacking the taut expanse of his neck viciously instead, earning a bubble of pleased moans and growls from the pale throat. Marik gladly sucked the slender digits that scratched over his lips and threatened to choke him just from how far Bakura insisted on thrusting them in his mouth. But the growing satisfaction that he would finally get to screw his paler lover senseless was short lived when Bakura shoved Marik away suddenly, the tanned yami falling unceremoniously to the ground, landing on his ass with an ‘oof’ and sharpened glare.

“You fucking… bas… bas… tard…”

Any trace of rage at the thief’s action quickly sizzled into nothing and was left to cling to Marik’s tongue as he fought against a surplus of drool, for a good moment forgetting how to blink as he regarded the sight a wonderful degree above him.

Front row seats didn’t get any better.

Bakura’s long, pale legs were spread wider than previously, an ankle hooked precariously on the sofa’s armrest as anchor while the other balanced along the very far edge of the coffee table. Squirming so his ass wriggled invitingly, but more importantly into better accessibility, the paler of the two allowed a saucy grin to spread across his cheeks… the ones on his face that is.

Hunger.

Raw, raging, riled hunger was now coursing through the Egyptian’s veins, throbbing quite audibly with growls and bared fangs.

“Ngh… Mm…” Mahogany eyes drooped in pleasure, the insuppressible initial wince of the first finger’s penetration was taken with more discomfort than pain, but the thief’s face quickly melted into a pleased mask as he withdrew his own digit from himself only to plunge it back within the puckered channel. Other hand still brushing over his prominent arousal, Bakura hardly had to try to make a chorus of erotic sounds as he panted and arched his body toward both sources of pleasure, haughty smirk dominating his flushed features as he rolled his hips slowly and watched Marik.

So. Fucking. Hot.

And he wasn’t just talking about the show.

Marik’s tongue did double time swiping across his lips, the hint of sweat staining his mouth as he rolled the salty flavor he collected in a cherishing manner, relishing the fact that at any moment now it would be Bakura’s sweat he’d be tasting.

The thought made him shudder with heat.

He had never quite managed to figure out why, but Marik found warmth to be a comfort, a form of security he may never had openly admitted to, but the driving forces of the sun and its radiance had always caused an enraptured surge of usually foreign emotions to swell within him, some of which he had yet to name, but most he recognized through simple terms his hikari had referenced.

Warmth was good. Warmth was safe. Warmth made Marik just a little more human.

Raw heat was another story.

When the temperatures dared to flare above the usual drone of appropriate degrees for summer, causing the mercury to rise and flirt with the triple digits, it was cause for alarm. Malik had once stated it would be wise indeed to suggest mass evacuation of any and all within Marik’s range of existence whenever summer pranced its way in, because the high heat did something to the yami’s remnants of a mind, cooked it to a steamy concoction of blind lust and sexual hunger to the point that anything with an orifice, no matter how small, was deemed fuckable.

At the moment, Marik felt his head daze slightly, a bead of sweat snag his brow, vision grow blind to anything other than Bakura’s moon-stained flesh, and his own dark skin began to prickle under the damn clothing he still had on. Not another thought stirred before Marik jumped to a stand and all but violently tore his shirt off, a button or two falling as casualties to the ground while tanned fingertips hurriedly unfastened and unzipped his pants, a fight rising between himself and his belt, but in the end Marik won out and had that and pants at his ankles in no time. The Egyptian yami stepped free from the society enacted constraints known as clothing, and was in the middle of toeing off his rumpled socks, when he lost his balance and made a comical wave of arms in an attempt to remain up, failing and yelping in pain as his shoulder made harsh contact with the corner of the coffee table.

All this while Bakura had been drowning himself in self-torturous ministrations, having by now impaled himself with three fingers that were quickly working their way deeply within his body, stretching and thrusting quite lividly against the tight ring of muscles. Biting back laughter at watching the Egyptian make an idiot of himself, Bakura grinned and blinked as he keened and writhed suddenly, having brushed against his prostate with of one his pale fingers. Damn, he hadn’t meant to make himself sound quite so wanton, because now Marik was looking at him with an all too amused expression, not to mention wolfish hunger too.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Ishtar…”

“Oh? And if I don’t?...” Marik grinned wider, ignoring the sting of the small scratch on his shoulder as he rocked to balance on his knees, hands placing themselves on the sofa cushion between Bakura’s legs to keep the paler from moving them close together again.

“…I’ll bite it off you.” Mahogany eyes flickered with a swirl of scarlet, more in lust than anything else as Bakura tried to suppress a shudder at feeling the warmth radiating from the darker skin inches away from him.

“Feh.” Canines exposing from the feral smirk, Marik crooned and slid a tanned hand along the other’s thigh, smugness curling his lips more so as he listened to his lover’s breath hitch. “You’re in no position to make threats, Ku-Kura.” Snatching the paler’s wrist, Marik’s violet eyes lit up dangerously as he licked his lips, feeling another wonderful surge of heat blanketing them. “Now… what was it you said earlier?” Increasing the grip on the other’s wrist, Marik purred seductively as he began to slowly rock his lover’s hand, thrusting the thief’s pale fingers within the writhing body harder than what Bakura had been performing on himself moments ago. “Something about not begging me to fuck you?”

“Ngh… Mm…”

“That didn’t quite sound like begging to me, Ku-Kura…”

Short nails digging into the alabaster skin, Marik growled as he shifted and leaned against the other’s body, slithering higher until their heated chests were pressed against one another, the Egyptian looming his face over Bakura’s and dragging his tongue across a flushed cheek with an amused grin.

“Beg me for it… Bunny…”

There, that should distract him.

A nearly rage-like growl resounded from the white, sweat-sheeted body, Bakura’s eyes narrowing sharply as he thrashed beneath the other now pinning him down with weight alone. He fucking hated that damn nickname!

“Fuck you, Ishtar! I’ve told you time and again not to fucking call me that! Get the hell off of me you-”

Bakura was effectively caught off by his own strangled moan, head lolling brokenly about as far as it could while arching his back to a remarkable degree. Having used the paler’s outburst as a suitable time for manipulation, Marik had withdrawn the other’s fingers from Bakura’s body and replaced the slender arsenal of digits with the entire, precum-slicked length of his own arousal, not without the Egyptian’s own groaning to accompany the action as well.

It was painful, or Re was it painful, but as maddening as the hurt was that tore through his body and up his spine like a raging flame at being completely filled far too quickly, Bakura couldn’t help but feel his body quake with pulses of heady anxiousness, squirming impossibly closer to his lover and sealing what sliver of spaces dared to come between them. His chest heaved and a murmur of moans escaped his taut throat, arms trying to slither about and wrap around the Egyptian’s neck, but finding it impossible to move said limbs and settling for tightly entangling his legs about Marik’s waist instead as he forced the adjustment unto himself.

He was actually quite surprised that Bakura hadn’t tried to free himself further, although Marik had the slight suspicion that the paler one wasn’t thinking clearly enough to realize his arms were both being held tightly above his head, almost at an uncomfortable angle. Ah well, this made it all the more interesting for himself. Refusing to do as the wriggling body beneath him wished, Marik held perfectly still, sheathed deeply within the heated channel of his lover, and ignoring the insistent roll of hips and grumbled profanities to ‘hurry it up already’.

Chuckling roughly, the Egyptian smirked and nipped gently along the other’s jaw line, nibbling affectionately down to the base of Bakura’s neck only to trail hungry kisses back up to nuzzle under a pale ear, pitching his voice to a low, sultry croon. “Ya want something, Ku-Kura?...” Dusky fingers spared their grip on the other’s wrists for a moment to skim nails and fingertips down the warm, flushed body, thumb and forefinger pinching an already erect nipple harshly, eliciting a jagged cry from Bakura. “You know all you have to do is ask… whine… beg for it, like a good little bitch.”

As demeaning as it was, the paler yami felt his arousal heighten at the other’s words, Bakura slitting open his murky eyes to blink through silver bangs at the taller, hips urgently jerking to feel Marik slip within him a fraction more, nothing but flesh meeting flesh as Bakura tried to worm his way around the other’s statement.

“Tsk, tsk, Bakura… I wanna hear you say it, not just watch you display yourself.” A rumbling laugh, brimming with mirth as he scratched over the aching nub on the pale chest once more, “Not that I don’t enjoy that either…” Marik reveling in Bakura’s gasped groan and just how much more the lightly colored skin beneath him quivered with need. The long legs wrapped about Marik all but squeezed the life out of him, but the tanned yami hardly minded as he merely applied his own, more interesting, pressure in return. Clamping his mouth on Bakura’s pulse point, Marik mercilessly dug into the flesh until a rivulet of blood beaded over his teeth, tongue flicking about to swipe clean the tiny wound before he drew back enough to crane his neck and press a harsh kiss to Bakura’s lips, rewarded with a starved growl as the thief immediately recognized the coppery taste, and began fervently sucking on his lover’s lower lip to draw off as much of the smudged blood as the paler could manage.

“Mmnhm… Marik…” Mumbling around the darker, and wonderfully delicious, lips covering his own, Bakura purred and bucked and did just about anything else he could while trapped between the cushions and Marik’s body, but to no avail. And it didn’t help that it was so damn hot in there either, whatever sensible portion of his mind that was still functioning made a note to bark at Ryou later to fix the damn heater. For now he could manage it though, the prickles of sweat across both bodies allowed them to meld ever-closer, smoothly brushing and becoming more a part of each other than they were already, which was quite impressive considering how they were conjoined at the moment.

More purrs, more squirms, and an ever-wonderful helping of licks were strewn across his face and neck, leading to shoulders and collarbone, and ending with a long, laving motion of Marik’s tongue across his chest, sparks of heat and frigid tingles coursing like grinning serpents across his quivering body.

Bakura was losing.

And how he hated that fact so.

Although he absolutely loathed himself more for being aware of and admitting his defeat.

Well… At least the sex would comfort him, not to mention quell that amazingly bothersome ache in his groin.

So without another thought, although the almost violent sucking on patches of his skin was certainly enough to keep him from changing his mind anyway, Bakura mewled uncharacteristically and shuddered pathetically beneath his lover’s stronger, broader, and more seemingly controlled body. “…Gods… Marik, just… Mm, fuck me…”

Now that wouldn’t do, Marik wanted to hear something just a tad more specific, and he would wring it out one way or another. “What was that?” A charming grin on his own face grew to match the dangerous glare he was receiving. “Show me how badly you want me then…” The Egyptian’s lips had murmured this along while trailing against Bakura’s neck and cheek again, pausing to playfully tug at a pale earlobe and whisper huskily, “…and scream my fucking name while I please you…” Another grin spread across his face as the body beneath his all but convulsed with arousal, muscled rings flinching tightly around his erection and causing Marik to utter a soft moan into the other’s ear.

“Re, Marik… Just… Please, fuck me…” It was disgusting just how badly he was squirming, futile attempts to force Marik into pleasing and settling the thirst raging across his body. He recognized the smugness in those violet depths, the cruel twist of dark lips, and predatory growl to escape Marik’s craned neck, the paler finally managing to move his hands and entangle them in the wild, gold spray of the Egyptian’s hair. “Hard… Make me bleed, then I’ll gladly scream… Just for you…”

He was rewarded with a hungry purr; lips snatching his own in a harsh kiss, and the sudden whirl of movement as Marik heavily jerked their bodies so they slipped from their nestled spot. They crashed and sank faintly into the soft cushions of the rest of the sofa, a guttural moan yanked from Bakura’s throat as he felt his lover press excruciatingly roughly against his prostate, fingernails clenching against Marik’s skull as he urged him into a deeper kiss, pliant lips parting and giving entrance to the heated, slicked muscle that had been lapping at his pale lips.

Blissful sounds were swallowed up by both, the tanned yami having broken and given into thrusting violently within the strong, pale body beneath his own, Bakura’s eyes screwing shut as he took every forceful impact and reverberated the pleasure with faint cries. Both bodies intertwined closer, moving as a single entity in a mesh of heat while one arched against the other, tongue-plundered mouths parting regretfully only to pant and swallow meager breaths, dazed violet slitting open briefly to visually track over Bakura’s face. Smile quirking his lips, Marik purred appreciatively at the other’s expression, hard kisses scattered across the smaller’s ecstasy molded face, tasting the brushes of salt beneath silver bangs, and gripping Bakura’s hips tightly when the paler yami had suddenly dived his head to lave a thick trail up Marik’s chest, the flat of his tongue curving to every dip and chisel of the Egyptian’s skin.

“Ah, shit…” The hiss of words came out just as Marik had felt a set of sharp canines snag a sliver of his skin where he had been bitten much earlier, passion-drugged growl coiling free while he retaliated with a sharp jerk within the paler. Not that Bakura minded, of course, far from it in fact as he suddenly found himself choking down the deliciously red treat around the loud shriek that escaped him, fingernails digging into the nape of Marik’s neck when he heard him snicker and chastise him for being so vocal; Bakura quickly giving a startled encore when his arousal was captured among wonderfully talented dark fingers that were quick to draw him to the hairline brink of pleasure.

Was it just him, or was it exceptionally toasty now? Although Marik hardly cared as it only fueled him to thrust all the harder and deeper within the paler body, grunted moans the only sounds to escape him until a drawn out groan flitted thickly between them when Bakura’s body tensed and wound impossibly tight around his erection. They were both so close he could taste it, well; more technically he could only taste what remnants of his own blood clung to Bakura’s tongue as it delved deeply within his mouth in turn, the Egyptian’s grip slowly increasing in pressure as his strokes drew longer and more insistent.

Jagged quivers of Bakura’s body resounded against the darker flesh pressed against and within him, a mangled scream of Marik’s name tearing free from the pale form as he thrashed and just as suddenly stiffened as he felt a wave of immeasurable pleasure envelop him. Bakura’s release spread across his flaring chest, leaving a slick trail over the Egyptian’s hand as it pumped and extended Bakura’s climax further while Marik’s own orgasm followed moments later, the flexing ring of muscles thoroughly draining him as he filled his lover, a shudder straining across their bodies as both yamis fell from their highs with wavering gasps.

Chests pressed against each other once they collapsed, neither prone figure did anything other than breathe, one fingering the sweat-clung gold bangs of the other, while the latter purred softly and nestled closer to the invitingly heated body beneath him.

“…Get… the hell off of me… Ishtar.” Not very forceful, but there was a measurable tinge of testiness to Bakura’s voice as he squirmed beneath the other, “It’s too fucking hot in here to be on top of each other…”

Marik grunted in protest to the shoving his lover had begun, rolling his lidded eyes and raising his head enough to glance down at Bakura lazily. “…You used to live in the Re damn desert, I’m sure you can survive this, Bunny…” Although he was curious nonetheless, it hadn’t been this warm when they had first entered the house… had it? Darting his violet gaze to the thermostat, his eyes widened a moment before blinking in wonder, mentally questioning how the damn thing had raised nearly thirty degrees above room temperature on its own.

“I’ve been pampered with the fucking air conditioner, and have enjoyed it… Now what the fuck have I told you about that damnable nick-”

Blinking curiously at the paler yami, after all it was unheard of for Bakura to cut himself off by his own freewill, Marik hardly had the chance to voice his concern before he yelped and found himself chest down on the coffee table, chin barely overhanging on the other end while his ass was perked at the other, a familiar weight pressed on his back to hold him in place, as though his currently pinned back arms wasn’t enough.

“…Kura?...”

The lick around the rim of his ear was quick to shut him up, Marik shuddering slightly as he recognized a reawakened erection being brushed slowly between the curved flesh of his rump; up and down, and up and down again, each drag heavier and pressing more firmly between his dark skin, the Egyptian moaning quietly as his own arousal began to perk once more.

And what was that faint scent of cherry on Bakura’s breath?...

“Mm… I hadn’t realized Ryou had replenished the lollipop bowl.” The pale thief grinned lewdly, the clicking of the bright, freshly unwrapped, red candy against his teeth as he swirled it with his tongue falling as a tinkering sound into Marik’s ears. “Now…” He cocked his head and purred while sucking on the nearly intoxicating flavor the treat was made of, Bakura feeling his head swirl with lust-livid nonsense as the hand not holding his lover in place moved to part the Egyptian’s legs quite well. “How about I make –you- beg this time around?...”

Marik knew he was in for one hell of a late afternoon when he noticed just how full the lollipop bowl was, the numerous brightly wrapped candies mocking him with their various flavors and drug-like qualities on the paler.

He couldn’t have grinned wider.

“By all means, Bunny… Make me scream… if you can.”

A distasteful growl, laced with cherry breath, tickled Marik’s ear when Bakura leaned across him more insistently. “I told you I hate that fucking nickname…”

All Marik could do was smirk and snicker in return, cut off abruptly when he felt a distinctly wet, sticky, and oddly small thing enter him. “What the-” He squirmed uncomfortably as the round head of something not quite right slipped within him deeper, Bakura laughing against his ear.

“I simply –love- lollipops.”

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Giggles were muffled as his wide, amethyst eyes were covered by a pair of all too familiar hands, Yuugi grinning as he felt himself blindly drawn away from the front window of the Bakura residence.

“Aw, but I wanted to see the next episode of Yamis Gone Wild!”

“You have been spending far too much time with Jounouchi, Aibou…” The ancient spirit raised a brow, small smirk toying on his lips all the same as he led them to the sidewalk and slipped an arm around his hikari’s waist once he allowed the boy to regain his sight.

“Oh sure, it’s a crime to be a voyeur, but not a sexual instigator?” The petit boy grinned cheekily, raising a matching brow to his darkness. “Remind me, Yami, who’s the one who wanted to beat Bakura and Marik to Ryou’s house, stop by at the gas station for a bag of lollipops to drop off, and then use your ‘mad-pharaoh skills’ to mess with the heater while we hid out in the bushes?... Hm?” Yami could say nothing to that but smirk wider and roll a shoulder. “Uh huh… thought so. Hentai.”

The Pharaoh laughed, hooking a finger or two on his light’s buckles as he turned them around a corner, instantly recognizing the green rooftop of the Kame Game shop down the block. “Mm, as though you didn’t enjoy my deviant qualities, Aibou… We’re one and the same, so you’re just as much of a hentai as I am. Although a closet hentai, I’d say.”

Yuugi smiled all to sweetly at that, fingering out the proper key to open the front door with, before he tossed his other a flirtatious grin over his shoulder while stepping within the Mutous’ home. “Well then, want to go play in my closet?...”

A smirk crept its way across Yami’s lips once more as he followed his lighter half within, the door slipping shut behind them soundlessly.

“Need you truly ask, Aibou?”

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Marik: -__-;; There’s a cherry lollipop up my ass?

Bakura: …I am –not- eating that after it’s used…

YRE: XD Hurrah, finally! I started this chapter back in April! Lost motivation… and then found it again! …So, I hope it was at least a bit amusing… Choppy, I know, but I can’t write lemons to save my life, so forgive me T__T

And as you can tell, should I write a next chapter to this, it would contain Yami x Yuugi lemon-ness. I’ve never really focused on that pairing, so we’ll see if that ever gets done XD Anywho, on with the reviewers!

Thank You:

~L: ^^ Thank you very much.

~Pwetty Blood: XD Yes, we do. And thank you!

~Haruka666: ^^ Much thanks.

~trivia-game: Indeed he is XD;; Bah, I’m never satisfied with what I write, that’s why. Thank you though!

~Elle-Fate2x1: Too true, being manipulated is their specialty. ^__^ And thank you!

~KitsuneNagisa: You’re very welcome XD;; I’m saying this well over a year later, how typical of me.

~DracOnyx: LoL, thank you for liking it enough to ask for more ^^

~Terri: ^^ Thank you!

~Nite Nite: XD Um, hopefully Malik held off on stabbing Marik with that fork. Much thanks for the amusing review ^^

~anubiset: Glad you thought so ^^

~fox: Ah, sorry I didn’t add any chains this round, while I’m sure Bakura has chains available in his room, the chapter wrote itself without them x.x;; Thank you for the review though ^^

YRE: Yay! I love you all for reading and reviewing! *love and adoration* It’s what eventually makes me write, or try to at least x.x;; Thank you again for reading, drop off a review if you can spare three seconds… they keep me warm… ^^;

~YamiRynEnjeru