"Ugh...Never again," Bakura said, shaking the rain from his hair as he losened his tie. "Never again will I let Ryo dress up for something as stupid as posing for a five second picture." He scowled, first at his rain-flattened locks, then at the silence pervading the apartment. "Marik? Get out here!"
No response but the usual creaking of pipes and other apartment sounds. No Marik.
"Marik?" Bakura asked again, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. "Where are you?"
Again, no response. "Marik?"
There was a swish of fabric and Bakura found himself roughly against the wall, a firm, tan hand holding him there. "Well, well, well," a seductive voice purred. "Look who I've caught in my net."
Bakura stopped his involuntary struggling, his eyes darting back to his 'captor.' "What the hell is-"
"I do believe," Marik said, spanking him lightly with what felt like a plastic nightstick. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be...er...held against you in a...uh..."
"Court of law?" Bakura prompted.
"Right, a court of law," Marik said, grabbing his wrists firmly and pinning them behind his back. "You know where criminals go, don't you?" he said in a quiet, seductive tone.
"I have a feeling I'm about to find out," Bakura muttered, allowing Marik to drag him back to the bedroom. As they headed down the hall, Bakura turned his head, catching sight of the full extent of what Marik had decided to do. He was dressed in full cop uniform: black slacks that made him seem almost taller, a blue button-down shirt and tie, complete with plastic badge and, hanging from a belt that Bakura recognized as his own, two pairs of hand cuffs. He grinned, as Marik shut and locked the bedroom door behind him.
"Now," Marik said, throwing Bakura roughly onto the bed and pulling the handcuffs off of his belt. He set them on the bed beside him, staring into Bakura's face with a wicked glint in his eyes. "Yes, I think you'll do nicely."
Bakura cocked an eyebrow. "For what?"
Marik smirked, pulling Bakura up by the tie. "I've been looking for a bitch, and I think I've just found me one...that is, if you don't want to go to prison..."
Bakura snorted. "As if I'd sink that low."
"I thought you might say something like that," Marik replied, pushing him back down on the bed and loosening quickly stripping Bakura of his tie and jacket. "But I doubt you'll be able to resist me after this little...test run." The shirt and pants ("I just ironed those," muttered Bakura) followed the first of his vestments onto the floor until Bakura was completely disrobed, staring up at a still fully-clothed Marik with a certain hunger in his eyes.
"Where to start, where to start..." Marik mused, crawling atop Bakura with one hand on his chest, pinning him to the sheets. With only a second's hesitation, Marik dove into a rough, passionate kiss, his tongue tangling with Bakura's as he straddled his pale chest. As Bakura brought his hand up to reach for Marik's face the tan youth pulled away, shaking his head and grabbing Bakura's hands. "That's not the way it works," he whispered, picking up the first set of handcuffs and attaching them to his partners wrists, hoisting the pale hands above his equally white hair. He then went back to what he was doing, exploring every inch of Bakura's body with both hands and tongue. Bakura bit back a moan as hands glided over his chest, his midriff, a tongue gently teasing at his nipple.
"Tell me," Marik murmured, tracing a tiny pattern on the inside of Bakura's thigh. "Do you want it?"
"Yes..."
Marik pulled back. "Then say it...say you'll be my bitch."
Bakura scowled. "I will do no such thing."
"Say." A hand snaking up to squeeze, just hard enough to elicit the tiniest of cries from Bakura's closed lips. "It." Bakura shook his head.
Rubbing gently, Marik arched an eyebrow. "You want this?" he asked, letting go and hovering over Bakura's face. "Then say it."
"Fine..." Bakura hissed, itching to have Marik's hands on him again. "I'll be your bitch."
Marik smiled, an almost malevolent glee passing over his face. "On your knees then," he said, reaching over to unhook the first set of handcuffs from Bakura's left hand, only to replace it right away with the second set. "We can't have you escaping, can we?" he asked, looping the other ends of each set of cuffs around the bedposts atop the headboard. He then crawled off the bed meeting Bakura's eyes as he backed away, grinning. "I still want you to see what you'll be getting," he said, seductively loosening his tie and letting it fall to the floor.
Bakura swallowed, hard, eyes following Marik's hands as they wandered casually down to his buttons, undoing each one with a tantalizing slowness. With each button, more of Marik's chest revealed itself, gleaming bronze in the dim lighting of the bedroom. He shrugged it to the floor, presenting his torso to Bakura, who was straining against the cuffs.
"Honestly, don't you have any self control?" Marik teased, running his hands over his own body. "You can wait." A single, caramel hand sliding down between his own legs as he leaned over, face to face with the white haired man on the bed. "Can't you?"
"Marik, you know that I bloody well can't, get your ass over-"
"Is that how you talk to an officer of the law?" Marik sniffed, turning away. "Maybe I'll just put my shirt back on and attend to my other duties...have fun in prison-"
"NO!" Bakura barked. "Marik please-"
"Officer Marik or it's no deal."
Bakura rolled his eyes. "Officer Marik, please-"
"Mm that's better," Marik chuckled, unzipping his pants and letting them drop to the floor. He clambered swiftly onto the bed, resting his chin lightly on the curve of Bakura's back.
"If you weren't such a thief, I'd be tempted to call you beautiful," he whispered, tracing Bakura's spine with a delicate finger, reveling in the shivers it caused. "Tell me, am I in danger of having anything of mine stolen? My heart perhaps?"
"Your virginity, perhaps?" Bakura muttered with a smirk.
Marik frowned, taking Bakura by the shoulders. "That's it sir," he said in a low, dangerous voice that almost had Bakura worried of an oncoming Yami incident. "Playtime is over." He shoved him roughly against the headboard.
Bakura turned his head to meet Marik's eyes, a dashing, fuck-me smile playing across his lips. "Do your worst, copper," he said, bracing himself against the wooden board as Marik readied himself behind him.
"Oh I plan to," Marik whispered, fingers gently prodding. "Don't worry." He paused, pulling away abruptly to sit back on the bed, staring at the ceiling."
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Bakura growled.
Marik's eyes flickered to Bakura's for a moment before returning upwards, a bemused, pondering look on his face. "I'm just wondering, is this really the right thing to do? I mean, keeping a prisoner from going to jail just so I can have a bit of fun...I could lose my badge for this..."
"Dammit Marik, just fu-"
"Officer Marik," the youth reminded him lazily.
"Officer Marik," Bakura said through gritted teeth. "Get back here and finish the job, or no more sex for at least...two weeks."
Marik was back, an arm snaking its way around Bakura's waist as he pushed in. "How about now?"
Bakura let out a small, rather un-Bakuraish noise as a second, golden hand started stroking him with just the right amount of pressure. "Ngh...alright," he muttered. "One week."
"One?" Marik was working up a rhythm, thrusts and pumps synchronizing to the light smack of the headboard against the wall.
Bakura moaned, Marik's fingers driving him completely insane. "Okay mm, make it...five days."
"I can...stand five days," Marik grunted, tightening his arm around Bakura's waist and thrusting in deeper. "I don't think tha-that you can."
"Ngh," was Bakura's only response, his hands tightening on the posts to which he was tied. "Marik..."
Marik didn't even correct him this time; he was too far gone to even recognize his surroundings. The only things that mattered were himself, Bakura and the tension welling up inside of them both.
"Say..." he whispered in Bakura's ear, his hand snaking up to his chest and playing with his nipple to add to the cacophony of senses already in play. "Say my name...tell me you want me."
"Marik," Bakura whispered, shudders running through his body. "I want you...mmf...I want you badly...Marik..."
Marik gasped, release and relief bursting and flooding every inch of his body, Bakura experiencing the same sensations underneath him. Marik stopped, pulling out and hugging him tightly around the waist. After a moment, he reached up and unhooked the handuffs, pulling Bakura back on the bed. There was silence for a moment, then a small chuckle escaped Bakura's lips, growing louder into a full gut-shaking laugh.
"What's the joke?" Marik asked, rolling Bakura over to face him.
"You're not a half bad police man, 'Officer,'" Bakura said through his laughter, kissing him gently. "My inner thief was almost worried."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Marik said, chortling. "I have to say I enjoyed it...probably a little more than I should have." He kissed him ever-so lightly on his sweat slicked cheek, before snuggling into his shoulder. "You already did, by the way."
"Hmm?" Bakura asked drowsily. "Did what?"
Marik smiled. "Steal my heart. Thoroughly."
Bakura gave him a gentle peck on the top of his head, holding him tightly to his chest. "Just as you've stolen mine."