It hadn't been hard to find out where Malik was staying, not with the way Shizuka had run back and forth between the two. The king of thieves had passed off following her as wanting to protect easily enough (as ridiuculous a concept as that was), and had memorized the route by the time she was gone. He normally hadn't bothered to walk her up to the
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Picking a fight and starting one were two very different things, though, and Bakura had absolutely no reason to throw the first punch. (He really didn't want to be hit, as much as it would seem that he did.) "If I planned to leave this early, I wouldn't have bothered coming."
Again, he stepped closer to Malik, this time within an arm's length. He didn't move to touch the other Egyptian, and instead just looked at him with his head cocked to one side. "I can't imagine why you're so bitter." Had he really used Malik, like the other had accused him of? He couldn't deny that -- he'd lied to the other to get laid, but wasn't that more giving Malik a gift? His ego, he knew, was misleading him, but he preferred to think that he let people sleep with him, not the other way around. If anything, Malik should be thanking him. He had killed Dark Malik, after all, so that part hadn't been a lie. He'd embellished the story a bit, yes, but he tended to exaggerate everything. Shouldn't Malik have expected that?
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Malik straightened his back but didn't cross his arms in front of his chest like he was prone to do. Instead, his hands rested on the window sill, the fingers of his right hand curling around the ear of the glass tea cup. No, he wasn't frightened any more. Anger, anger was rushing through him, with more violence and force than he had felt in a long time. The same anger he had felt when his father had dragged him out of his room, forced him face down on a stone slab and.. the same anger that had given birth to his Other, and Malik bit his lip again, until it bled.
"After everything that happened, you can't imagine why I am so bitter? You really don't get it, do you?" Now that anger was overtaking him, he grew bolder. No way in hell he was going to tell Bakura though that he trusted him; that sounded too... weak and lovey-dovey at the moment. The Thief King would probably laugh right in his face and mock him... "Get lost, you son of a drunken whore," Malik crudely said, and even though it was rather girly to do it, the satisfaction of throwing his cooled down tea right in the man's face was very, very great.
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It shouldn't amuse him this much, really, to see the other actually hate him. It was strange, wasn't it, to be entertained by seeing others absolute despise him?
"No, no, I get it," he chuckled, the sound low and taunting. He hadn't expected the other to throw tea in his face. While it wasn't hot, it was annoying and he wiped his face, shooting an annoyed glare at Malik. He could keep his cool for a little while longer, though, and he just laughed (louder than necessary) and replied, "Now, now. What's wrong with my drunken whore of a mother? It's not very polite to insult the dead."
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"You're crazy," he said, not knowing what else to say. "What do you want of me? I doubt you 'get' it, Bakura. As long as you can lie and decieve, as long as you can kill and murder, you're happy! It's all about you you you, and no one else. As long as it's about you, you're happy, and what happens to others, the way you use them, abuse them, you just don't care."
He could smash the glass into pieces and scratch at his face. For now, Bakura still stood where he was standing, but Malik knew how fast he could be. "My apologies, then. I thought she matched nicely your inbred dog of a father."
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Still, Malik was partially wrong. He wasn't about killing and murdering for himself, but instead for revenge. Revenge for the family that Malik was trying to insult. While the younger Egyptian wasn't doing a very good job at it, it was still enough to grate against Bakura's nerves.
So he stepped closer to Malik, almost pushing against the other. Any further and Malik would have ended up sitting on the window seat, surely. "At least my family's loyal," he remarked.
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Malik didn't know about Bakura's motives. It had been wrong and naive to trust the man when he had called for his help, and he didn't actually know what drove the man - but Malik wasn't the one to be interested in backstories. He had listed Bakura's help, had him paid for it, and was doublecrossed and decieved - that was all that mattered.
When Bakura stepped closer, Malik refrained from swallowing heavy, instead tightening his grip on the tea glass. It wouldn't do him much good, but you never know... "What family," he bitched at the thief. "What would you know about loyalty, let alone your family?"
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Fist squeezing at his side, Bakura managed to refrain from hitting the other (though it had been his first instinct). Instead, he grabbed Malik's chin, tilting the other's face towards his. "I've been loyal to my family for millenniums." He leaned in and whispered, "In fact, I fucked you over for them." That had been what it all boiled down to. He'd lied to Malik in order to lie to everyone until he was certain he had what he wanted. Now that he did, he was satisfied as far as that went. Not completely, but he wouldn't be completely pleased until he'd completed what he set out to do.
"I take it your precious sister hasn't told you who's been keeping her company at night, has she?" That was a bit of an exaggeration. From what the Dark Malik had told him, it had really only been once, but whatever.
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He refused to be afraid of Bakura. He refused to listen to the man who could only tell lies. He refused to, refused to..! A gasp, when the other grabbed his chin and tilted his face toward him. Malik demonstratively looked upwards, at the ceiling, not wanting to look Bakura straight into the eye. He was disgusted by him, the bitter feelings of being used rising up in him again. He would never understand Bakura, not aware of the details of the other's youth or motives, and right now he just didn't want to deal with him. Malik had never wanted to see him again - a shameful lie, as he couldn't help but think back of their...meetings together, even if it had been only pure physical attraction at first.
It had always been about the body, hadn't it? He didn't share anything with Bakura, they were strangers to each other. Talking to each other in riddles, taunting, pestering. Not exactly the base of a good relationship. Still not look at him, Malik answered: "If you really think that I'm going to believe a word you say, you're dead wrong. How cliché of you to talk about my sister like that. You can't hurt me with that, thief."
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And what was important? Revenge, Darkness, and pleasure, in that order. The thief had no choice but to keep it that way. He'd get his revenge, and lose everything else in the process. So wasn't it better to have nothing to begin with? It wasn't as if he didn't enjoy his current lifestyle. He could have whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
He couldn't help but be amused by the way Malik tried to look away from him, look up of all places. He had a sort of confidence about him, even like this, that Bakura admired. "Then I'll let your other half tell you." That, inevitably, would sting more, Bakura knew. Coming from the thief, it was nothing but a warning. Coming from Dark Malik, it was just one more dagger for the being of hatred to use against its lighter half. "He'll certainly have more details than I." With the way Dark Malik had bragged about it (in part to piss Bakura off), he would have much preferred to tell the story himself.
"But you should know not to drag family into a conversation. It's a low blow, and if you want to fight dirty, I'm not the person to do it with." Leaning in, he whispered into Malik's ear, "Unless you want to get really dirty."
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"I don't care," he said brusquely. "I don't talk to him that often, if not at all, if you had forgotten about that. Besides, he's a liar as well. Whatever you're trying to pull off, it won't work, Bakura." He was saying it, but inevitably a knot had tied in his stomach. Bakura had said something about Isis, and that was enough to irritate him. Why couldn't the man leave him alone? He had his Other Half to fuck and to annoy, what the hell was he doing here, in his hotel room?
Did Bakura realize how tight his grip was? His fingers on his chin were getting kind of painful. "Let me go," he said, and his voice started to tremble when Bakura was close enough to whisper in his ear. "I don't want to get dirty at all. Leave me alone. You have no business here, no right to be here."
The tea glass. Why didn't he shatter it and press the shards into Bakura's face, or hands?
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"I know what family is supposed to be." He'd all but hissed, finally letting go of Malik's jaw. He'd surprised himself thus far -- had it been anyone else (hell, had it been Dark Malik), he would have at least punched them.
Still, he didn't explain what he'd meant, settling instead on, "He'll seek you out to tell you something like this, and I'll let him." No warning from him, though even the 'warning' would have stung. "I have every right to be wherever I want, my love."
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When the thief finally let go of him, Malik's own hand went to his chin, as if checking if there was permanent damage, moving his jaw just a little. "You're crazy," he repeated, not that it made any sense. His stomach was knotting itself over and over again. What could the other have meant, when he talked about Isis? Isis could take care of herself, and keep herself out of danger.. what, what, what had the other been hinting at? No, it was lies, it was manipulating, Bakura was toying with him once again, he had to let it go...despite it was already inside his system now, a sick little knot of tensed worries.
"I don't want him to seek me out. If he shows up, I'll fucking kill him myself." An empty threat, but there was nothing else he could say. Talking about his Other made him immediately talk about killing, the anger automatically welling up in him. "You have no right to be here after what you did to me, sweetheart," Malik said, this time looking at Bakura with anger written all over his face. "Get. Lost. If you only came here to nag about my sister, then you have delivered your message, so now you can get lost."
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"Of course you don't want him to," he laughed, shaking his head. Dark Malik never did the things people wanted him to do. Bakura certainly hadn't wanted the other to follow him here, to Egypt, and yet, he had anyway. "Good luck with that." Bakura had shot Dark Malik, only to have the other come back to life. Trying to picture anyone else killing him was an amusing image indeed.
"And what if I came from something else~?"
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He forced himself to relax his body, but his fingers did not leave the tea glass. It was stupid to think that a piece of glass would help him, but it was the only defense he had if Bakura would attack him physically. Malik choose to ignore the rest of Bakura's comment, and just tilted his head.
"What if you had come here to take a shit, for all I care? I just want you gone, Bakura. Use my Other for the cheap sex you're so proud of."
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"Ugh, you seem to think that's all I think about," Bakura replied, unable to keep from laughing. If it was just sex Bakura wanted, he certainly wouldn't have chose Dark Malik of all people to keep him satisfied. While they did fool around with each other, that was more due to the convenience of Dark Malik being close to him than him actually wanting Malik's embodiment of hatred. He needed to keep Dark Malik close to him, as it meant not making an enemy he couldn't handle (as much as he hated to admit it -- if he couldn't kill Dark Malik, he needed to keep him as close to "on his side" as he could). "If it was sex I wanted, I would have stuck with you." That may have not been much of a compliment in Malik's eyes, but it was true. Malik was easier to screw around with than his other half; he didn't make it a habit to try and kill Bakura mid-sex like Dark Malik.
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"I don't understand you at all," he said, baffled, and his fingers left the tea glass, realizing how silly he had been behaving. There was nothing he could do against Bakura if the man decided to get physical.. and if he got physical, Malik knew all too well how it would end up, even in a situation like this. Damn that man! Why in all the Gods' names was he even.. sort of caring what happened to Bakura? He had his Other, he should be all means repulsed by his presence!
"You certainly made me believe that there wasn't much else that mattered to you," Malik muttered, knowing very well how greedily he had responded to the other's ministrations, even going as far as to beg him. He had done nothing to turn the other away and to spare himself the humiliation of realizing that he was jealous of anyone else who had shared Bakura's bed, especially the most despicable of all, his own Other. "What is it you want, then?"
He would probably answer with something cryptic, or just laugh at him, telling him that it was too late to ask now; Malik looked at Bakura, sitting on the couch as if he owned the place and everyone in it. "What is it you want?"
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