Feel on the Dark

Feel on the Dark
written by RL.Angstshipping
say good-bye to the hindering past;

---

Fourth Sight

Pomp and Circumstance

Try again. The words still echoed in Malik's head. It had been Ryou's voice, sweet and naturally soft, but the tone was one he'd never heard from his friend. Ghosts? Ghosts weren't real but what other explanation was there? Violet eyes on Ryou, Malik leaned in to wrap his arms around the other, almost protectively. He didn't for one minute believe that this was the paler boy's fault. He opened his mouth to speak, to say anything that would assure them both that something weird, something fucked up, had happened. Instead, he got a pitiful squeak.

How the hell could this happen? Better question -- what the hell had happened? He squirmed again, the pain that shot through his body convincing him to stay still. Taking a deep breath, he finally managed a strangled, "Ryou? ... Are you okay?"

Body still tingling, Ryou heard his name through the fog and gave a soft groan. He didn't want to move; his body felt so comfortable, so at peace. As his mind started up again, he began to slowly recall where he was. Class field trip, haunted house... Why did he feel this good? Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he tried to focus and recall exactly what had happened. The last thing he remembered was...

Brown eyes flying open, Ryou quickly pushed himself up, for the first time processing just how close he was to Malik. His face instantly turned crimson, mind giving out once more. Why was... how did...

"Malik?" he rasped, feeling his arms and legs shake as though they were about to buckle beneath him. Had they just...? Oh, God, they had. They definitely had. Embarrassed tears jumped to his eyes, mouth opening slightly to beg for forgiveness, clamping shut again once he realized that words refused to surface.

Pulling himself out from under the other, Malik looked over to Ryou, eyes running over the paler boy's body nervously. While he didn't know exactly what had happened, it was obvious about where it had ended up. With a nervous chuckle, he leaned forward, running his fingers through the other's hair, trying to find a soothing action while his mind wrestled for the correct words for the situation. The problem was that in the given situation there were no correct words. Trying to swallow the lump in his throat, Malik murmured, "We, uh..." Was there really any point in stating the obvious? "I have no idea what happened."

Shuddering, Ryou felt the tears in his eyes start to fall. He wasn't who he had been earlier that day, he'd lost something he could never get back, and he couldn't even remember doing it. Yet, that wasn't what got to him most. Now, had he woken up with anyone else... He felt the blush spread down his neck and over his chest, everything burning with a horrified fire. He pulled away from Malik's touch, quickly averting his eyes. He couldn't face his friend even though Malik didn't appear to be angry with him.

"I'm so sorry." The fact that he hadn't consciously done anything didn't seem to matter. The guilt refused to subside. It was only worse that he didn't completely hate the situation. In a way, he was actually thankful for the opportunity to be close to Malik.

"Shh," Malik whispered, trying to scoot closer to the other without making him even more uncomfortable. (Uncomfortable? He was the one with the horrible pain in his backside, damnit.) Brushing his fingers lightly against Ryou's cheek, he added, "Please? I'm not..." No, he couldn't say he wasn't upset. He was very fucking upset but it had nothing to do with Ryou. It hadn't even been Ryou when he came to; he was more certain of that now than ever. Try again. The voice had been too chilling, too heartless to be his best friend. "I'm not that upset. Are you--"

He didn't even get the statement out before Ryou latched onto him, pulling him into an awkward embrace. Malik's own cheeks tinted slightly as he wrapped his arms around the other, trying to return the hug. The fact that'd he already had feelings for Ryou didn't make this situation any easier. The thought of asking Ryou for another go surfaced momentarily but Malik quickly smacked it back down. Could he think anything more horrible at a time like this? Still, he had missed out on what was probably the most mind-blowing experience of his life. Would it be so bad to ask the ot--

He had to quit thinking like that. Shyly, he leaned in and kissed Ryou's cheek lightly. To his surprise, Ryou shivered under the touch and turned so it was their lips touching instead. Ryou's brown eyes widened after he realized what he had done and he pulled back slightly, though still not letting go of Malik. Burying his face in the blonde's shirt, he muttered, "I'm fine. Really." What was he supposed to say? Actually, I'm kind of upset that I wasn't here to experience me having sex with you. No! That was horrible. He was horrible for thinking it.

The brief kiss made Malik's already pleasure-wracked body shudder, fingers curling into the other's side. His mind felt hazy, jumbled. This feeling was lust. Lust. Sure, Malik had experienced it before but never actively and he'd definitely never done anything beyond masturbation (which yes, he'd been thinking of Ryou a few times, a detail that made this entire thing that much weirder.) "Ryou..." He was embarrassed, that was obvious. Ryou'd always seemed to be the more innocent of the two. Tilting his head up so that the other's brown eyes met his own violet, he stuttered, "... Can I... can we... uhm, can I kiss you? I m-mean, you stole one from me. It's payback." Payback sounded a hell of a lot more manlier than, fuck, please kiss me, you're so cute.

That had been unexpected. Ryou's heart skipped a beat as he studied the other carefully. He'd originally thought that shock had been what made Malik so tolerant of him but now...? It sounded like Malik liked him. Liked him, liked him, too. His mind felt as if it had suddenly been filled with water and his brain was sloshing around, making it hard for him to think of anything, much less what he wanted to say. "Y-yeah," he replied, looking dazed. A kiss. He liked kisses. Especially Malik's kisses.

Malik wasted no time, leaning in and pressing his lips against Ryou's, hands moving to rest on the smaller boy's shoulders. He'd kissed a few people before but he'd never actually been that into it. Now, he was and to be entirely honest, it felt weird. This was their first kiss and they'd already had sex. Hot, steamy sex from the looks of it and Malik hadn't felt a thing.

The kiss was a very, very nice thing. Ryou felt his body melting into a puddle of happy and his eyelids fluttered shut. He kissed back, though he wasn't sure what he was doing as he'd never kissed anyone back before (Miho had snuck one up on him Valentines Day the previous year but he just remained there, frozen and embarrassed.) His own hands moved up and held onto Malik gently but with a longing need to be loved. He no longer cared that he'd just had sex and wasn't even aware of it. Really, though, if they hadn't, he wouldn't be in this position with someone he had been thinking about for a while.

"M-Malik," he whispered, sighing blissfully (and somewhat embarrassed, still), pressing his forehead against the Egyptian's, doing the same with their noses and giving the other an eskimo kiss.

The awkwardness of the kiss made it that much more enjoyable and Malik opened his mouth to let his tongue run over Ryou's bottom lip, savoring the taste of the boy he'd thought about for far too long. He squeezed Ryou's shoulders, hands wanting to drift lower but knowing that it would most likely make the other uncomfortable. Technically, they were both still wearing shirts...

They were still slightly intertwined. ... He was definitely touching the part of Ryou he'd be fantasizing about (and apparently he'd overestimated the other but who the fuck cared?). His breathing hitched and he tried to focus on the kiss, cheeks dark red, a strange combination with his skin tone.

Ryou, once the other shifted, noticed their position and he gave a short, soft gasp. Oh, they were still... There was suddenly a lump in his throat. Through his utter shyness and embarrassment, he turned his eyes up to Malik, staring at him with a shocked, unsure expression. His body wanted him to do something but he honestly wasn't sure he knew exactly what and even if he did, could he do it? His hands slid over the other's arms, heading upwards, before his digits curled around Malik's shoulders. Was Malik still just his friend? They had... had sex, even if they weren't aware of it or not. Did that make them lovers? Together? Ryou was confused but he was also caught up in the moment. Swallowing, with extended effort, he tried to think of something, anything, to say. In a moment of stupidity (or whatever it was), Ryou decided, 'Screw words.' He leaned up and kissed the blonde, nuzzling against him. Would he accidently push things too far or would Malik like this?

Malik, of course, had no issue with being kissed again and took it as a sign that he could push things a little further. He'd always been one to take risks anyway, right? Hands sliding down to the paler boy's hips, he gave a small groan at the feel of the other's bare flesh. His mind was reeling; would this upset Ryou? What if he got scared? Damnit, they'd just had sex and he'd felt nothing. He deserved a little gratification, even if it was simply stroking his best friend's hips.

Best friend. That made this increasingly awkward. Breaking the kiss for a moment (though not until after he got a content sigh from the other), though his lips were still barely apart from Ryou's, he murmured the question he was sure the other had to be thinking as well, "Ryou, what does this make us?"

Ryou's body felt as though it were literally melting. The fingers on his body made him squirm, a quiet, joyful sound escaping his lips at that, too. Eyes fluttering open, he looked up at the other, at a loss. "I don't know..." came the honest reply. "We're still best friends..." Best friends? Best friends didn't do what they were doing right now. "Just... a little bit more, too?" His tone was quiet, shy, as if he was unsure of what to say.

Chuckling, Malik muttered, "I could have inferred that much without asking and looking like an idiot." He nuzzled against Ryou's neck, lips grazing over the skin for a moment. "You know... I wouldn't mind if we were something else." He laughed nervously, shaking his head, hair brushing against Ryou's shoulder. "More..."

Feeling rather stupid now, Ryou quickly apologized, though his face heated up as the other kept speaking. He could feel his heart fluttering quickly in his chest and he inquired softly, "R-really? I wouldn't... wouldn't mind that either." He suddenly looked rather goofy, smiling a little but in a dreamy, blissful manner.

Malik felt slightly off himself. With his own smile, he muttered (almost under his breath), "This is Ryou, my boyfriend." Then grinning, he kissed Ryou's cheek. "I like the way that sounds."

"Boyfriend," Ryou chirped, sighing as an odd, warm tingle ran down his spine at the term. The goofy smile had gotten larger and he quickly buried his face in the other's neck. Boyfriend. "I really like that, too," he said, sounding almost giddy. Why? Why did he feel so good? So pathetic? He wasn't some love-struck girl... Ah, damnit, he might as well be. "Malik, I..." He paused. Was it too soon to say those three words?

Thankfully, he didn't have to decide. Malik had realized that they were still pantsless, intertwined like they'd just had sex (because technically, they had) and commented, "We should probably put our clothes back on."

Ryou's face turned bright red. "O-oh, right!" Even after they had done so much, he still felt a need to hide his, er, lower parts from Malik (though surely the other had seen by now?). This was such a weird situation. But still, around all the awkward embarrassment he felt... very happy.

Malik chuckled, kissing Ryou lightly as he slid out from under the other, body still tingling from the pleasure of the situation before. Pain shot through his backside and he winced slightly, pulling up his pants and zipping them. He should have expected that but the thought hadn't even occurred to him.

The paler of the two instantly felt a wave of guilt rush over him as he noticed Malik's pain. Trying to keep himself covered up and get to his... lover? (yes, lover; the thought made it heart flutter but now wasn't the time!) he reached and grasped the blonde's arm, bending to look the other in the eye. "How bad do you hurt?" he asked quietly, looking horribly upset by the fact that he was the one who caused it, knowingly or not.

"Vaguely like an 18-wheeler ran over my ass," Malik replied with a light smile, obviously (partially) joking. He ruffled Ryou's hair, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure it... dies down, or something? Otherwise, people wouldn't do it, I'd hope." Unless, of course, it felt so good that the pain didn't matter. Pity Malik couldn't be the one to judge. Straightening out his shirt, his gaze settled on Ryou. "I kind of hope no one heard us." On second thought, that was probably a concern he should have kept to himself.

Ryou's eyes widened. "Oh... oh dear." How loud had they been? And what if everyone did hear? Would they still be able to go to dinner? Or would they get kicked out? Trying to calm his thoughts down, he quickly pulled up his own pants and buttoned them.

Malik chuckled nervously. "I think we're safe? It didn't sound that, erm," he blushed, "loud when I woke up. But I don't know about before then."

Ryou nodded slowly, wanting to ask more, to figure out what had happened but he had a feeling that bringing it up wasn't in his best interest. He wanted them to be able to sit here and be this close... and hug and stuff. Asking might make that awkward. He felt himself blush; the entire thing felt ridiculously corny but he'd never been in a relationship before or even really liked someone like he did Malik.

The blush made Ryou look all the more adorable and Malik pulled him into a quick hug, kissing his cheek lightly. Pulling back, he yawned, the action of which startled him. Was he that tired already? It was early wasn't it? Still, the expression on Ryou's face told him that the idea of a nap wasn't so bad. Moving back towards the bed and pulling his new boyfriend with him, Malik took a seat and mentally cursed himself for putting back on his regular clothes. Pajamas would have been a hell of a lot more comfortable.

Leaning forward, Malik pulled up the covers, covering both he and Ryou. "Naptime?" he inquired with a smile, chuckling lightly.

Ryou squirmed even closer to Malik; the Egyptian was so warm and comfortable to lie against. The covers were soft, too, though they were worn with use and smelled slightly of dust. Had they been using the same covers since the murder? "Nap?" he repeated. "Yes, that sounds wonderful." Snuggling closer, Ryou moved to lie down, tugging lightly on Malik to convince the other to do the same. With a content sigh, the paler boy began to drift off almost immediately, a smile on his lips. Wrapping one arm around the other, holding him as close as was possible, Malik fell asleep soon after.

Have I Told You Lately?

Mariku had been forced to the ground beside the bed, violet eyes gazing bitterly up at the spot that he had been previously. His eyes briefly locked with Bakura's, long enough for him to be certain that the other knew what had happened. Despite that, the pale thief had continued. Jealousy was the one emotion Mariku could recognize in a heartbeat; everything that was his should remain his. He deserved everything, every object, every person.

He watched with a confident smirk as Bakura was kicked out as well, the latter giving a bitter growl and slamming his fists against the ground. Served him right. Again, his eyes met Bakura and the two stared at each other for a moment. A heavy gasp escaped the Egyptian's lips, the sound of which startled him. Gasp? His body was still tense, too, still wanting what he'd almost had.

Bakura, apparently, noticed this, too, made obvious by the frustrated expression on his face. Had they some how leeched out some of the life from their hosts? That didn't even seem possible.

Narrowing his eyes, Mariku slowly approached his companion, attempting to ignore the pain that jarred up through his leg. Not a good pain, however. The pain of lust was agonizing, torture for the torturer himself. "... You..." He grabbed Bakura's hair, pulling the startled thief (the other had been too busy trying to relieve the horrible sensation) to his face. "You wanted him."

Bakura hadn't expected the twinge of pain that came with the other's grip though that wasn't his priority at the moment. Priority? The other's angry look. Shit, had he wanted the living child? His eyes drifted towards the bed. After being stuck with Mariku for so many decades, the change was nice, but... His eyes flickered back to his partner and he lifted his hands, trying to unhook his hair from the tanned fingers. "What, should I not?" he asked.

Though, with the other's unstable personality, that probably wasn't the best choice of words.

Mariku let go of Bakura's hair, sneer on his lips. "No, no. Of course not." He wasn't upset; he didn't get upset. Stepping away from the other, he explained in a calm voice, devoid of emotion, "I'm going back to my room."

Bakura noted the other's hurt (and it was hurt, despite what Mariku would have said). Holding his glaring look, the white-haired thief watched as his partner stood and started to leave. Fucking great. He didn't want to deal with the pissy blonde right now. Of course, the glance back to the teens on the bed reminded him that he didn't want to stay in here either. Climbing to his feet, rubbing his head where Mariku had grabbed his hair, Bakura walked after his lover, not saying a word.

Refusing to turn around, Mariku narrowed his eyes. "Don't follow me," he demanded, tone harsh enough to prove that he really didn't want the other's company; rare, because their entire afterlife, he'd practically been starving for Bakura's attention. Again, something he'd never admit.

Bakura ignored the other's tone though it did irritate him. Maybe he'd been better off with the living kid after all. The way the kid had sounded when he woke up... heh. Even so, he continued to stalk the other spirit, still keeping his mouth shut.

The footsteps behind him were driving him crazy. Mariku rubbed his temples, groaning lowly. His head felt like it was pounding. Thump, thump, thump. This was one feeling he’d been glad that he’d lost after dying. So why had it returned?

Abruptly, the Egyptian turned around, his expression one that would normally read as darkly amused. “Darling Thief King,” the title was said with disdain, “is there something you want? Surely, not me when you--”

Glare still set into his features, Bakura stormed towards Mariku, even though the other had quit walking. “Shut up,” he demanded sternly, before he reached out and grabbed his lover’s chin roughly and tugged his face downwards while tipping his own up to smash his lips against the other’s.

Mariku looked down at him, violet eyes flashing dangerously. His body twitched ever-so-slightly, begging him to just flick his tongue across Bakura’s lips, but he controlled it. He wouldn’t give in, wouldn’t respond to something as pathetic as this, as desperate as this. Pulling back, he smirked at the other, arms folding across his chest. “You’re never satisfied, are you?” he taunted, chuckling coldly. Then, turning his back to Bakura, he waved his hand dismissively over his shoulder. “I told you, I’m not interested. Go find another toy.”

Letting out a low growl, Bakura stepped forward, landing a punch to the back of Mariku’s (metaphorical) skull. Angry? Of course, he’d attempted to be nice and got treated like this (though, really, what had he expected from Mariku?). “You’re not good at anything but fucking things up, anyway,” he spat furiously.

The other stumbled forward, tanned hand moving instinctively to the back of his head. This was the first pain from fighting he’d felt in a long time, though it still felt empty. Mariku had no heart to pump quickly after the first punch was thrown, no blood to rush through his body. He turned quickly to face Bakura, hissing, “I can say I’m glad to know you mean that.”

For Bakura, the punch hadn’t let off as much steam as he’d hoped it would. Holding his hand in a tight fist, he retorted, “You’re such a fucking dumbass. You go and mope and when I try to come make you feel better, you shove me off. I’m sick and tired of you and your bratty little attitude.” One taste of being alive and he was exaggerating everything again.

Mariku’s face fell slightly though the Egyptian quickly replaced the expression with a smirk, laughing loudly. “Try to make me feel better? Is that what you call it?”

Bakura gave a sneer. “I don’t know why I’ve put up with you all this time anyway,” he commented, voice plain as if it were casual conversation, “especially when we were alive.” If it was a fight the Egyptian wanted, it was a fight he would get.

Mariku hid the frown that followed, fingers twitching slightly against his belt loop. His feeling had returned as had his strange habits. His answer was as calm as Bakura’s, “Alive I had my body.” He sounded almost nonchalant now. “That is why you dealt with me. Now, you hardly have a choice.” They were both tied to this cursed house, tied to each other. He let his tongue roll over his lip, a gesture meant to calm him down (despite the exterior, his mind was still reeling).

If he’d been able to spit, the brown-eyed thief would have done so on the wooden floor. Yes, the sex had been good, but after a certain point, not even that would have convinced him to stay with Mariku for as long as he had (before death, of course, since after death, he had no option of leaving.) “Fuck you,” he growled before turning and storming away.

And to think, things had started to look up, too.

End Fourth Sight