lay your hand on me one last time

[bringmemythrone]

[[ WARNING! Sex, violence, blah blah, the usual. ]]

Seeing Anzu again hadn't gone the way Bakura had wanted it to, though admittedly, the thief wasn't sure how he'd wanted it to go. He'd probably been better off keeping that door shut and avoiding her and their stupid child. It wasn't as if the thing had even gone poorly; she was allowing him to see the baby. Still, even now, she made him feel a way he hated feeling, a way he knew he wasn't meant to feel.

The best solution to coping with that was, of course, to drink himself into a stupor and find the most attractive, nameless woman he could. He'd done just that (and thankfully it hadn't taken much time at all) and he currently had -her-, whoever she was, with her back against the rough brick of some dirty, dirty alleyway behind some bar he rarely went to (it was actually one of the ones a good distance from his home and therefore not one he frequented).

Malik, on the other hand, was feeling grand. He--and Malik was indeed a 'he' again, thanks to a combination of patience and Darkness and maybe if he was willing to admit it, Mana--knew a storm was coming. The city was rushing to get out of the cold wind, while he walked it calmly, listening to the sounds of people griping at each other for everything from debt to traffic jams.

As he passed one corner in particular, he heard a rather familiar sound: the thud of flesh against brick. This was a dirty, mostly-deserted section of town, one that he enjoyed, and he paused to see who was making the most of it. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to see Bakura. He ignored the pretty little thing flush up against the thief's body, even as she moaned.

Instead, he sidled up behind Bakura and slid his hands around the other's waist, at first gently and sensuously as he murmured, "Hello~" And then, sharply, he shoved Bakura forward. It was hard enough that the woman's breath was knocked out of her and instead of yelping out a protest, she was left gagging against Bakura's face.

Bakura had been more than caught up in the moment, enough so that while he'd heard the sound of someone approaching, he hadn't bothered to turn his head to see who it was. Most people (especially on this side of town) would just walk on by, ignoring the scene in the alleyway. The hands around his waist, though, immediately caught his attention and had he been in a different position, he might have jumped.

The voice automatically alerted him to who it was and had he been (again) in a better position, he would have whirled around and flat-out hit the man. Instead, he was slammed into the woman who was currently flattened against the wall. Listening to her gasp for her breath, the thief smirked before he turned his head to capture Malik's lips with his own. He really hated this man, he did, and he knew the feeling was more than mutual. Malik, though, was Darkness in a way Bakura couldn't have it any other way.

Quite suddenly, Bakura slammed his elbow back into Malik's stomach, giving a small awkward half-moan and half-laugh.

Malik had, fortunately, already started to turn to reach for the girl. Bakura's elbow ended up slamming straight into his ribs, cracking one and bruising the others. Malik had still been kissing Bakura, and the startling pain caused him to bite hard into the other man's lips, tearing them open. He let go just as quickly, to breathe and to laugh with the pain and anger that went along with being attacked and simultaneously flirted with.

The woman still looked pale and sick, all the lust having drained right out of her with her breath, and she was struggling weakly to either get away or become comfortable again. Malik grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head against the wall.

"Oi, you're taking them -awake- now? Tch, where did your creativity go, Ba~ku~ra~?"

The blood that immediately flooded his mouth was such a pleasant taste and one that Bakura hadn't had in quite some time. Beyond a handful of fights, he couldn't remember a time when someone had actually managed to -hurt- him and he was certainly reaping in the benefits, the awkwardly pleasant sensations that came with being the masochist he was.

The woman hardly had his interest anymore, the thief now entirely fixated on the man he hadn't seen, much less felt, in months. "Mm, this is new?" he hissed, licking at the blood from his lip. "You'll have to forgive me, Malik, but I lose my motivation when you're not around."

Malik hadn't expected Bakura to be at all receptive to seeing him again. Not that they'd parted on bad terms; that implied they had ever been on truly -good- terms. They hadn't. Maybe this welcome he was getting was just because he'd interrupted Bakura in the middle of sex....

Or, maybe Bakura really -was- as attached to the Darkness as he claimed to be every now and again.

That thought was enough to attract Malik's attention fully, and he let his arms slide loosely around Bakura's waist again--but this time, he kept Bakura up against him, hands fondling the thief king. "Mmmm, and I thought you were done with dirty alleyways." He chuckled, and bit the other's neck roughly (how did he always end up doing that when they'd been apart? He rarely bit Bakura there when they were together regularly).

Bakura himself didn't know just how receptive he would have been to the other had he not been so utterly desperate to clear his head of Anzu. Malik had always been the obvious answer. Malik was what he needed, whereas Anzu had always proved only to be a want. A want that was clearly quite impossible to have, though he still had yet to figure out just where he'd messed up.

He'd settled, at one point, on the conclusion that he hadn't messed up. He blamed her because she was the one at fault, the one who'd made the decision. He'd blamed fate, too, because he knew who he was and what he was supposed to be, supposed to do. Anzu didn't fit into that picture. Malik did.

"Clearly I'm not as classy as I aim to be," he whispered, breath heavy. "Gods, Malik..." If he could have wormed his way out of the other's grasp, he probably would have shoved the poor girl away (which she quite obviously wished would happen). Tilting his head slightly to the side, he gave Malik full access to his neck -- what was a bite mark? It wasn't as if anyone would give it much of a second thought.

Malik bit down, running his tongue over Bakura's skin where it was noticeably feverish as it bruised. The girl, who was drunk and probably concussed by now, tried to inch her way in. If she wasn't the focal point she might as well get into a threesome, she figured, apparently. Malik allowed it, chuckling darkly against Bakura's neck. Even if the thief had forgotten her, Malik was always glad to have another sacrifice.

However, he didn't want her in the way, he just wanted her to wait until he was ready to properly dispose of her. Right now, Bakura was the only thing he wanted to give any attention to. So he wrapped his hand around Bakura's length and purred, "Get rid of the whore. We'll play with her later...."

Drunk as she was, the woman only half-registered the insult and she didn't manage to react to it before Bakura did just as he was told and shoved her away. The movement ended up with him against the wall, palms flat against the brick. He'd always hated brick, or at least being up against it like this. The way it scraped against skin wasn't a sensation he enjoyed.

"Where the hell have you even been?" The question seemed so random, but it'd apparently just surfaced to Bakura that it really had been ages since he'd been near the other man. "... fuck, you're a man."

That, too, was something he must have missed at first.

Malik wanted to take Bakura from behind, but then he'd miss the expression. He'd spent far, -far- too long having to tolerate the smug arrogance in the other's eyes as, no matter what position he took, Bakura had felt superior while Malik was female. Things were how they -should- be now.

Grudgingly, he turned Bakura to face him, kissing him roughly and sucking on Bakura's torn lower lip. "I've been working," he murmured finally, fingers digging into Bakura's back as he pulled him closer. "And you~?"

Happy to be turned around, Bakura pressed his back up firmly against the wall, one hand moving to grip Malik's chin as the other kissed him. His free hand drifted down to Malik's side, fingers tightly wrapped around the other's waist. When Malik broke the kiss, he whispered back the word, "Same," before he started another, tasting the metallic taste of his own blood in his mouth and loving every second of it.

Oh, what the hell did it matter if they hated each other? They could get away with this first, and then return promptly to trying to kill each other. It wasn't as if it would be anything new.

Malik was as skeptical as ever about how much "work" Bakura had really accomplished, but he didn't bother pulling away just to argue. He really didn't want to be in the alley doing this (the last two times they'd been too lazy to find somewhere better to mess around had been when Malik was inebriated and unable to care about the location).

He pulled Bakura away from the wall, stepping back towards the bar. "Inside," he growled, hands already roaming the other eagerly.

Inside? Given where they were in town, Bakura somehow doubted that inside would be much cleaner than their current location. Still, he pulled up his pants, zipping them, before giving a frustrated sigh. Malik's hands sure weren't helping matters and Bakura abruptly pulled away before making a beeline towards the bar.

The woman, apparently, was too out of it to notice the pair was leaving (if she was even still conscious -- with his brief glance, Bakura hadn't been able to tell).

Malik followed close on his heels, and it said something about how much he actually -did- enjoy Bakura that he didn't bother to do anything to the woman as they left her in the grimey alleyway.

The bartender had taken note of Bakura's exit earlier, and he seemed surprised and a little amused to find such a popular customer coming -back- in with a man this time. (It was pretty obvious Malik was 'with' him, since the second they were close to the bathroom, the blond had returned to groping at the other.)

Truthfully, a seedy bathroom wasn't any cleaner than an alleyway, but it -was- warmer; that counted for something.

The bathroom almost seemed dirtier than the alleyway, but Bakura was all too happy to overlook the fact and pull the other Egyptian back into a rather violent kiss. When it came to sex in public (and this was rather public since they were just barely in the bathroom and hadn't bothered to slip into a stall), Bakura was no stranger to it and certainly didn't oppose it, but there was something strange about being in public with Malik.

His relationship with the other wasn't really a private affair, since just about anyone who knew him well knew Malik and knew he was somewhat involved with Malik, but it wasn't one he'd ever indulged in in a place like this.

Malik, as far as he was concerned, was the only legitimate being in the world--so he didn't care at all about being in public or private. He had no shame, seeing as how there was no one he wanted respect from.

He groaned appreciatively against Bakura's mouth, pushing him up against one of the long, cracked mirrors on the wall. Impatiently, he started pulling at Bakura's clothes, growing rougher by the moment.

Shifting so he was in a more comfortable position, Bakura broke the kiss long enough to reach down and unzip his pants again, sliding them down just enough. His hands then moved to Malik's belt, unbuckling it and tugging the other closer to him, giving him a quick bite on the jaw before he tugged at the other's pants at well. Shirts he hardly cared about. He didn't really need to remove them and it wasn't as if Malik had a chest anymore, so what did it really matter?

He was more interested in a quickie anyway, especially in a place like this.

Malik snickered, and after a moment of thought turned Bakura again, this time so the other was facing his own reflection. Being able to watch himself, perhaps, would make the thief king less inclined to fight their positioning. Or at least put off a fight until they were sated.

He nipped at Bakura's shoulder, and positioned himself.

The incarnation of Darkness was right when it came to predicting how Bakura would react to his own reflection and the thief pressed one hand against the glass, a smirk on his lips. "Fuck," he whispered, licking his lips. "I look pretty damned good~"

He really just looked pretty damn drunk, but the thief's vanity was more than willing to allow him to overlook that fact.

Malik chuckled against Bakura's neck, which he was biting and sucking on again, and with one sharp thrust pushed into him. "Nnn, you look even better when you scream," he promised, wasting no time in setting a harsh pace.

The thief didn't quite scream, though he did cry out when Malik entered him. That, alone, was rather shameful, though he'd give himself a break when he reminded himself that it had been quite some time since he'd been with a man and been on bottom. That and being taken dry was never really a picnic.

"Gods, I should have topped," he hissed. That was one thing he'd miss about Malik's woman form, no doubt about it.

The friction was by turns uncomfortable (almost unbearable), and something that made the Darkness pleased and therefore made the pain bearable again. Besides, he was proving a point here: he'd wasted too much time letting Bakura think he was dominant.

"Mmmm, you should've had your fill before I became myself again," Malik chided him, the words punctuated by soft groans.

Bakura would have protested and insisted that he wasn't some submissive whore, but the pain left his breathing far too ragged and broken to give an accurate answer. Fuck, he really should have thought this entire thing over better -- it was going to be a pain to walk and he did have quite the journey home.

Malik came within a few minutes, and if he'd thought to feel shame for coming so quickly he'd have blamed the fact that he hadn't actually -been- with anyone in his male form in, what, a few months? He stayed where he was, though, panting softly and just looking dazedly at Bakura's form in the mirror. It took a second to register the fact that Bakura looked almost -annoyed- at the situation.

His hand at some point had slid down to grasp the other's length again, and with a crooked grin, he started stroking the Thief King.

Annoyed as he was, Bakura turned his head to kiss the man harshly, in part just to wipe that stupid grin from his face. It didn't take him long to release as well, fingers curling into a fist as he groaned in pleasure. He was only vaguely aware of one of the men in the bathroom staring at him, and had he not been so caught up in the moment, he probably would have laughed.

Malik slowly looked over his shoulder at their audience, who was nowhere near inebriated enough to find them amusing. Instead, he was staring at them in mute horror, and when he spoke it was only to say, "Security!"

Which, of course, was a waste of breath. This bar--this whole neighborhood--had nothing of the sort. Malik just laughed, and brought his hand up to lick it clean. "Nnnn, Bakura~ I think he likes you."

"How could he not?" Bakura snickered in response, blue eyes shifting momentarily to the man before his attention quickly returned to Malik. He wasn't really sure how to word what he wanted to say next, which was a frustration of its own. Had it been anyone else, Bakura wouldn't have had a problem with deciding on how to ask it.

So, instead of asking, he stated it, "You should come back with me~" It probably said something in how utterly pathetic he really was when the truth was, Bakura felt better about things when Malik was around.

Malik offered a low, thoughtful sound as he zipped his pants back up. "I was planning on it~" Now that he didn't have to feel weaker and at risk all the time, he was more than willing to take up residence. After all, the apartment was as much his as anyone's; moreso, if he was going to be honest with himself, because he was more entitled to it. "Now?"

Bakura practically shoved Malik off of him in order to pull up his own pants, zipping them before he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm going back now, yes," he replied. He might as well. He'd more than gotten what he'd wanted out of the evening.

Malik snickered again, but that was mostly because he knew what a difficult walk Bakura had ahead of him. "Let's go~" He stretched languidly, and then pulled open the old wood door and led the way to the street.

Damnit. The pain wasted no time in flaring up, and Bakura winced as he followed after Malik. "Nngh, we should get a cab or take the bus or something," he spoke up. There was no way he was walking all the way home like this.

That did surprise Malik, and he paused on the sidewalk to look at his companion. He wasn't one to pass up a ride, though, so he tilted his head in a shrug and flagged them down a passing cab. It took two tries before one would stop for them.

"Mm, you shouldn't keep me waiting so long," Malik said easily as he climbed into the back of the taxi. "I'll go easier on you then~"

Bakura rolled his eyes, slipping into the cab as well, so obviously thankful that they'd managed to hail one this late at night. "If that wasn't a complete lie, I'd remind you that it was you that disappeared."

Then, to the cab driver, he recited his address. The driver raised an eyebrow, looking in the mirror at the pair, trying to figure out why two people who lived in such an upscale area were here of all places.

Malik scoffed. "Ne, you were too -rough- with me~" he teased. "I had to leave. It wasn't -safe- for a woman. That's what Mana wanted us to learn, ne?"

The cab driver kept glancing at them in the rearview mirror, and every time Malik was staring at him. He couldn't place the expression in the blond's eyes but it made him almost sick.

Laughing at that, Bakura raised an eyebrow. "You mean wanted you to learn," he responded, moving so his arm was around Malik's shoulder. "You were the only one who had to deal with being so pathetically weak~"

His attention, obviously, wasn't on the cab driver at all. Surely the man saw stranger things than this.

Malik licked at a spot of blood on Bakura's chin. "Mmm, you had to deal with -me-, though. Every time I stabbed you...." Which really wasn't that different from how he usually treated Bakura. He'd only been -slightly- more violent as a woman. "Oi, I thought you only wanted women now~? Wasn't that what you told yours~?"

Truthfully, Bakura hadn't noticed a change in how violent Malik had been. It had seemed the same for him, even with the minor increase. "I still have to deal with you, don't I?" he replied nonchalantly.

It was true to say that he was more attracted to women than men, and really, he tended to not even bother with anything but women unless he was too drunk to care. He shrugged then before replying, "Sex is sex, so I'll take whatever~ It'd be foolish of me to think I'd actually do anything different."

He was, after all, quite the slut.

"Oi oi, how -generous- of you~" Malik teased, in a good enough mood that he was willing to banter with the thief. "I was so worried you would try to deny me the -pleasure- of you~"

Up front, the cab driver coughed and accelerated a little faster. Malik chuckled, close to Bakura's ear, which he licked possessively. "I hope the bed is clean...."

"I'm not that cruel," Bakura chuckled, leaning into the other slightly. He pulled Malik closer to his, hand sliding down to rest on the other's side. "Nnn, I can't promise that. I really don't remember the last time it was washed."

He turned then, pressing his lips to Malik's. "If you want a clean bed, I'm sure we can try the Spirit's room~"

"His room then," Malik agreed, since he really doubted he'd been the last person Bakura had fucked there. The thought of sleeping in someone else's leftovers was less than enticing. He pushed his tongue past Bakura's lips, flicking against the roof of the other's mouth and only breaking the kiss when the cab driver screeched to a halt outside the apartment.

Welcoming the tongue in his mouth, Bakura slid his own along it. He didn't hesitate to frown when Malik pulled away, staring at the other for a moment before he reached into his pocket and threw a rather large bill in the driver's direction. Could the man really complain now? Bakura had probably given him twice what the ride was worth.

He climbed out of the car then, stretching before looking up at your apartment building. "Nn~ Been quite some time since I've brought you home with me."

"Mm," Malik tipped his head in agreement--and also assessment of the building, which looked about the same as it had when he'd left those months ago, except that the trees were turning colors. "Maybe I won't stay away so long next time~"

The cab pulled away from the curb, not in any obvious hurry--perhaps the driver had in fact been watching them for some other reason than morbid curiosity. Malik led the way up the stairs, eager to have a bed that didn't smell like years-old cigarettes and baking soda over vomit.

"You shouldn't~ I get lonely," Bakura chuckled as he followed after the other, stopping in front of his apartment and picking his lock. He really should get in the habit of using a key (and lately, he'd done so more often), but this was just easier as far as he was concerned.

Stepping inside, Bakura made his way quickly to the kitchen (because he was thinking and that clearly meant he wasn't drunk enough) and opened the refrigerator, searching through it until he found a half-empty can of beer.

Malik sauntered after him, letting the door whisper shut behind him. Funny how hard it was to get this door to actually -slam-. It usually just dragged on the carpet.

He prowled around the apartment, searching it for changes (there were few), or other occupants (it was just the two of them), and lastly inspecting the bedrooms to decide which he liked better.

Bakura actually downed the rest of his beer in the kitchen before tossing it in the sink (the trash can was too far out of the way) and sauntered through the apartment. It wasn't hard to find Malik, given that the place wasn't exactly the largest thing in the world. "Is everything to your liking?" he snickered, finding it more than amusing how Malik had to inspect the entire apartment before he'd be truly comfortable.

Malik tilted his head, looking at Bakura without turning fully around. "Mmm, I want to sleep in this room," not surprisingly it was the Spirit's, which was cleaner at the moment. He moved only far enough to grab Bakura around the waist and yank him closer. "Doesn't it agree~?"

There was nothing shocking about Malik's decision, so Bakura simply shrugged his shoulders. He'd probably end up having one of his girls clean his room tomorrow (though it was debatable on whether or not that would actually get it clean). "Nn, whatever?" he replied, walking in the bedroom and kicking off his shoes. "I prefer my room~ My bed is more comfortable."

Nonetheless, he plopped down on the Spirit's bed and took off his shirt, tossing it onto the floor.

Malik stripped down and settled under the covers, for the first time in almost a year -beside- Bakura rather than on top of him. He crossed his arms behind his head, as he was lying on his back, and uttered a soft, pleased sound at how comfortable the bed actually was.

Bakura didn't bother to slide off his pants -- they were actually rather comfortable -- and moved to lie down as well, though he ended up on his side, blue eyes watching Malik. It was actually quite strange to see the man relax and after a moment, he leaned in and kiss him. For two people who hated each other, they always ended up rather comfortable with one another.

"It missed me," Malik said, teasing almost, and for a second the kiss was as soft as theirs ever got. But then he moved one hand to twist his fingers cruelly in Bakura's hair, not to pull him away but to pull him closer into a deeper kiss.

Not willing to admit that he had in fact missed the other, Bakura just focused on returning the kiss, running his tongue along Malik's mouth before probing past his lips. It was almost disgusting just how good it felt to be with Malik again; there was certainly something there that Bakura was unable to get from anyone else.

It took a moment of internal debate, but eventually Malik relented just a bit and let Bakura dominate the kiss. Well, more or less; he was still nipping at the other's tongue here and there. Not that Malik had abstained while he'd been away from Bakura, quite the opposite, but he was disturbed and enticed by just how things felt to be in this position again.

The occasional nips actually made the kiss all that much more enjoyable, though Bakura wondered if he'd be willing to tolerate it from anyone else. Running his fingers over Malik's chest, he pulled back enough to whisper, "Things really are boring without you."

Malik wasn't willing to admit that serving chaos hadn't been nearly as amusing lately; he just grinned sharkishly through the dark at Bakura. "I'll make sure you're entertained," he promised--threatened, really, depending on how you looked at it. "We have a lot to do...."

"I hope so," Bakura replied, chuckling before he moved to roll onto his back. "I'm reckless when I've got nothing to do~" He turned his head then to look at the other once more. "Do we?" That was a pointless question when it came down to it. Bakura had been slacking off in terms of things he should be doing for Darkness and ultimately for his own revenge, and from the sound of things, Malik had been, too.

Malik realized how little he trusted Bakura--not that he could, necessarily, trust anyone less than he already did, but it was rare he was in a position where he actually thought about it. At the moment, though, he wasn't sure he liked having Bakura where he was. Reluctantly, he decided to let it go. "The Darkness wants the Items out of certain hands," he explained after a moment. "We have to find them."

"Nn, well, how hard can that be?" It wasn't as if they hadn't already stolen one of the Items from someone (Kaiba, no less, and that man didn't exactly have the easiest home to break into). The issue now was just finding the others, which was the exact thing that Bakura had been slacking off on. Things had been remarkably easier in the past where he knew that the priests would have all seven of the Items ripe for plucking.

He could rely on the Ring, though, and he knew the best place to start would be around the Pharaoh. If he and Malik (and the Dark Bakura for that matter) already had three, surely someone else would have one as well.

It was then he realized that the entire thing (because he really couldn't think of a better word for it) with Anzu might not have been such a waste after all. How to bring it up to Malik, though, was a tricky topic, since he knew that the other more than likely wouldn't 'approve' of what he was doing. He wasn't the type of person to hide how he spent his time, however, and he just decided to say what was on his mind. "I'm speaking with Anzu again. If I can pretend to get close to her again, I should be able to get close to the rest of them and then the Ring should react, right?"

Malik was tired, and still in a good mood from their activities in a dingy bathroom; but mention of Bakura siding with Anzu simply brought up all the lies, all the betrayals, and all of the weaknesses Bakura refused to rid himself of. No matter what his oath with the Darkness was, Bakura had never proven himself loyal in Malik's eyes; as emissary to it, he had a right to decide such things. Surely.

Still, he was a fair man. He waited a moment, mulled it over, before deciding how to react.

And then he sat up swiftly, again grabbed Bakura by the hair, and slammed his head against the wall.

Well, at least Malik wasn't a hard man to read. Bakura's head hit the wall pretty hard and after shoving Malik away from him, he moved his hand to rub his forehead, checking to see if he was bleeding. Turned out his was, and after licking the blood from his fingers, his eyes narrowed -- fuck his head hurt -- and he snapped, "Fuck, Malik. It's not like it's that big a fucking deal, is it?"

As angry as he was, he was actually thankful to have someone like Malik to slam his head into a wall when he was doing something he knew he shouldn't. It didn't mean it would stop him; Bakura was stubborn and there was still that ever-annoying side of him that wanted to be apart of his daughter's life at least.

He should probably be more prepared to fight Malik, but he was drunk and sleepy. His now pounding head wasn't much of a help either.

Malik, on the other hand, had only had one drink several hours before; he wasn't the slightest bit sluggish. He was back on Bakura in a matter of seconds, his hand around the thief king's throat and tightening as he spoke.

"I don't need you to find the Items," he crooned, his voice deceptive in that it was so seductive, so low. "You will kill those in the way. I will use the girl to get close to the Pharaoh." He dug his fingers into Bakura's skin, twisting and slamming Bakura against the wall again, then following it up with an angry, frustrated punch across the jaw.

"You," he hissed, "will stay here and get drunk until the Darkness wants you to move."

Choking, Bakura's hands moved up to try and force Malik's hand from his throat. He really should have gone with his first instinct and just not told Malik, though it wasn't as if the man wouldn't have found out eventually anyway (and really, would he have been more pissed if Bakura had kept it from him?).

When his head hit the wall again, he cursed, and the follow up punch really didn't do anything for him. He had a split lip, now, he was sure, and he could actually taste the blood in his mouth. Spitting (and on Malik because the bastard deserved it), he punched the other in the stomach after getting his hands off his throat.

Malik doubted him. He always had, and Bakura doubted that would ever change, even if he did manage to prove himself to the man. It was something that didn't bother Bakura; why worry over something like that? "I'll kill whoever I need to," he hissed. "I've never had a problem with that."

Drinking, though, sounded like an excellent thing to do, though he doubted that Malik was going to let him go anytime soon. He did crawl out of bed though, not willing to just sit there where the other could hit him again. Fuck, he felt dizzy, though, and he knew that a fight with Malik was something he simply could not win right now.

Malik wasn't done with Bakura yet. The punch to his gut had hurt, mostly because it had affected the cracked rib Bakura had given him earlier (sitting hunched as he'd been to hold the man's throat, Malik's ribs were more exposed than his stomach).

He pushed himself up and grabbed Bakura, then spun him and pushed him against the wall. "Understand this, Bakura," he drawled the name, "If you try to crawl out of the Darkness's plans, I will cut you open and pull every bone out of your body," his hand trailed up Bakura's thigh, over his hips, along his ribs, "one at a time. And then I'll take your daughter~ and let her play with your entrails while you bleed to death."

That said, he smirked and backed off, out of range of retaliation for the moment.

Had Bakura been just a little more sober and capable of putting up a good fight, he would have attacked Malik again. He was smart enough though to let the man go for now, figuring that if anything, he'd only end up with an injury that wouldn't be as easy to deal with as a fat lip and headache (er, head wound, which he should probably look at, but he was just too damned tired to care at the moment).

"It's a damn good thing I don't plan to do that then, isn't it?" he spat, hand rubbing his head again. Then, he smirked, "I should really let you babysit my child sometime~ I'm sure you'd teach her a number of good values that I could only begin to touch on."

"I will," Malik snickered. "I'll take good care of her. I'll watch her grow...or I'll watch her die." He took a breath, exhaled, smiling with the pleasure of the thought. "She'll be beautiful either way, ne~?"

And then he laid down again, keeping a wary eye on Bakura.

Bakura couldn't be sure that he actually wanted to lie down again, at least, not next to Malik. "Of course she will. She's my daughter," he replied with a shrug. It'd been a while since he'd even seen her, so he did wonder if she had ended up taking after her mother more than him. He hoped not; he was considerably more attractive, after all, and it wouldn't due to have an ugly kid running around.

"I'm going to get a fucking drink," he replied before walking out of the room, because that would obviously help his head.

It was a good thing Bakura had gone out of the room. Although all of their encounters were an equal mix of violence and lust, when his goals were threatened, Malik went beyond mere fighting. The solitude gave him a moment to sort it out, to formulate a plan, some way to prevent what he was certain was going to happen.

He was in a good mood again, or at least a better one, when he got up again and went to the kitchen to be sure Bakura hadn't tried to run off.

Bakura had indeed stayed put and was in the kitchen downing a bottle of rather strong vodka when Malik entered the room. Raising an eyebrow, he watched the other in silence, confident that at least now, if Malik attacked him, he had a glass bottle to depend on.

Seeing Bakura there, drinking just like Bakura always did Malik had suggested, put him in an even better mood. Malik moved slowly, deliberately closer, and licked the trail of blood on Bakura's chin. He rubbed his tongue against the very obvious split in Bakura's lip, and then pulled back to look at him. He would probably get hit for it, but he didn't really care as it wasn't anything new.

"You look better now."

"Do I?" Bakura asked, clearly not amused. "I certainly don't feel better." But wasn't that what he was working on changing with the vodka? He had to admit that it helped a little, and that was probably why he didn't hit Malik, instead choosing to drink more. It was really a wonder his liver was holding out as well as it was.

"Go away. Go to sleep or something." A waste of his breath, considering Malik would probably rather stick around and annoy him.

Malik tugged the bottle out of Bakura's hand and grabbed him by the upper arm, pulling him towards the bedroom. "Drink while I sleep," he said, truly unwilling to leave Bakura alone where he couldn't see or hear him leave.

Bakura rolled his eyes before saying, "I'm done. Just throw it in the sink or something." It was amazing how paranoid Malik could be, especially since it wasn't like Bakura could kill him. Hadn't they learned that lesson already once before? If anything, it was Bakura who should be this distrusting of the other.

Malik wasn't willing to admit that half of what he was really afraid of right then wasn't Bakura trying to kill him; it was Bakura going to Anzu to warn her. Never mind that, currently, Bakura probably didn't even know if Malik had anything planned for the woman anyway. (And never mind the fact that Bakura hated her.)

"If you're done," he said, pulling Bakura harder, "Then come sleep."

Had Bakura actually been aware that Malik was planning anything, it was iffy to say whether or not he'd actually tell her. Chances were he wouldn't -- hadn't she made it painfully obvious that their relationship was completely in the past? What did he care if she ended up dead because of one of his casual acquaintances?

Bakura let the man pull him along then, offering a brief, "Fine, fine," before walking down the hallway on his own. Once they were back in the Spirit's room, he crawled back in bed, his back turned to Malik (which, strategically, was probably not a good move but fuck, he really just wanted to pass out).

Malik sprawled out on his back, resting only one hand behind his head now, the other on his stomach to grab Bakura fast if he felt him move. And then, while he listened for Bakura's breathing to even out, he fell asleep.