Not In The Cards - part one

NOTE; image is not mine. found it on google.

Not in the Cards

Prologue
Our story takes place following the Battle City Tournament; however it deviates greatly from the plotline from therein.  It does not go on to follow the events depicted in the Anime, and is not meant to relate to the plot at all.  This time frame is chosen simply because it revolves around a theme known as ThiefShipping - a.k.a. the pairing of Yami Bakura & Marik.

This story involves questionable plot points including, but not limited to: out of character development, yaoi, and _genderswap.  You have been warned.

Setting (A/N; you may skip to the *** for the actual start of the story)
After returning home, Marik dawned a kind of longing for Domino City and, after much negotiation, left Ishizu and returned to live there on his own.  His older sister rarely visits, as she is now a solitary tomb-keeper, however they keep in touch by all necessary means.

Yami Bakura's spirit has been returned to Ryou's body and, while Ryou is still around, his Yami primarily runs their vessel.  Upon Marik's return, Yami Bakura made an effort to meet up with the ex-villain, only to learn of his new morals.  Though he did not turn a blind eye to his own innate evilness, Yami Bakura found himself intrigued by Marik's change of heart, and invited the ex-tomb-keeper to live in his hikari's home.  At first, Marik turned down the offer, arguing that he was in the process of finding himself a place to live, but Bakura knew better than that.  Those who lived in Domino City were either families or beings with intentions of their own.  Sensing that the new, moralistic Marik would not stand to be forced, Bakura suggested the boy live with him just until he found a place to call his own.  This, after a little thought, Marik agreed to.

It was barely a week before the pressure got to the newcomer and he began to see the props of sharing a home.  Aside from the companionship, there was no way he could afford a place nearly as nice as the one he'd been invited to share.  Still, his stubborn pride brew somewhere deep inside of him and he insisted on moving out after he found a job and earned more spending money.  Bakura offered only a knowing smirk.

Ryou played a part in creating what would be quite the unexpected turn of events, though he didn't know it at the time.  The gentler boy simply reveled in companionship as well, and spent every moment of ownership over his body tending to Marik's needs.  At first, the tanned boy dismissed the paler one's efforts, inviting him to go about his day normally, or at the least just sit and talk, but Ryou wouldn't have it.  He cooked meals and his own favourite snacks, quickly learning what the foreigner had a tongue for and, consequently, what made him miserable.  Once, after attempting to mother him with a hot bowl of chicken soup, Ryou (along with his shirt and rug) quickly learned that their guest had certain diet restrictions.

***

Startled by the other's outburst, Ryou subjected himself to Bakura's control.  Trying to control his temper, Bakura went to where they kept the cleaning supplies and gathered what he'd need to care for the rug.  When he returned to the living room, Marik couldn't help but notice he'd removed his shirt and hadn't bothered to replace it.  Without hesitation, Bakura dropped to the floor and began to clean up the mess Marik had made.  This was the first time Marik felt any noticeable attraction to the spirit, but chalked it up to his illness at the time.  As Bakura turned to leave the room, still silent, Marik noticed the scar on his left arm from back when they first met.  He felt a pang of guilt at this, but that pride of his filed that under delusions as well.  Laying there in the loveseat where Ryou had sat him with a blanket and tea when his fever had struck, Marik was convinced Bakura wasn't coming back.  He looked at the darker spots on the rug where the leave-in cleaner was sopping up any excess liquid and felt some remorse, but the way his stomach churned at the thought of eating meat reminded him that not stopping Ryou from feeding him the soup would have resulted in a mess far worse.

Bakura did return, eventually, and in his oven mitt-less hands he held a new bowl of soup which emitted waves of stem in an all-too-similar fashion to the previous.

"I can't eat that!"  Marik whined.  "I'm..."

"Shut up," Bakura's tone was firm, but there was no real anger in it, just impatience.  He knelt beside the chair and rested the bowl on its plush arm, lifting the spoon slowly and blowing it cool.  "Open your mouth."

Marik was hesitant, but obeyed when the spirit repeated his words more harshly.  He was fed less than gingerly, but didn't immediately swallow.  When his belated sense of taste kicked in, he found himself pleasantly surprised and swallowed the soup without fear.  Wide-eyed, he looked at Bakura as the latter attempted to feed him again.  "How did you kn..."

Bakura smirked as he shoved the spoon in the boy's mouth.  "Ryou may be overly maternal for a boy, and not as good a cook as he likes to believe," he waited for Marik to swallow then fed him again, "but nobody has ever rejected his soup... without a damned good reason."

Marik blushed and pulled the bowl into his lap.  In a quiet voice he mumbled, "I can feed myself, now..."

It may have been his imagination, but Bakura's smirk seemed to soften.  He rose, exposing his still-bare chest and earning a blush from the boy, then tousled his blonde locks and told him, "get better soon.  If our body gets any more maternal I just might snap."


Marik lay in bed that night feeling cold and alone for the first time since he'd moved to Domino.  He thought of calling Ishizu then decided against it.  His first call home would be a pleasant one, he'd decided.  He turned to his side and shivered, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders.  He thought of Ryou sleeping peacefully in his room down the hall and, for a moment, thought of going to the kitchen for a midnight snack.  He dismissed the idea, partially because he thought it wouldn't help and partially because he still considered himself a guest.  He closed his eyes and let his mind wander, hoping it would find the source of his disarray.  Thoughts of home crossed through his head, thoughts of Ishizu and Odion... then, suddenly, thoughts of Bakura.

At that point, he didn't know which unsettled him more; that his subconscious would lead him there, or the warm, secure feeling that overcame him when they did.

"It's the medicine Ryou gave me," he told himself as the warmth was followed by a sudden wave of drowsiness, "never used medicine from a store before..."

But even as he slipped into unconsciousness, he knew the truth behind his feelings too well.

He had a crush.