So I had what started as a drabble idea and then it became this. Sorta smut in a way? Ahaha, but not really at the same time. It's mostly Marik pondering about Bakura with a miniplot throughout. Just read it, I command it so! *nuked* Oh and when Marik says 'you', he pretty much means Bakura. In a sense he's talking to Bakura throughout the oneshot but not really. You'll see.

Marik's POV

I hate your personality. You think far too highly of yourself. You think you're the boss. You think you're so fucking amazing compared to the rest of us. You grouch too much when things aren't going your way. You're a thief. You abuse that host body of yours. What, do you think that because you're goddamn Bakura that means you can do whatever the fuck you want? I hate hate hate your personality.

That was never really something I was attracted to. If I could, I would replace your personality and give you a personality like...

Actually, I haven't the slightest clue on how to finish that sentence. I hate your personality yet I can't think of how I could improve it.

Moving right along then!

I hate your looks. You think you're so badass in your stupid giant black jacket or those stupid stripy tank tops with the unbuttoned shirt on it and those tight tight pants that show off an ass one can't take their eyes off. Your white hair is stupid – only old people get white hair for Ra's sake! Your brown eyes with that constant intense look about them trying to bore into my skull – I get it already! I know you think you're better than me but it always shows in the expressions you make around me. With your devious chocolate eyes and your all-knowing smirks constantly getting to me. Anyway, that's not even your looks. It's your host's.

What was your original body like, Bakura? Would I hate it too?

Plus looks shouldn't be the biggest attraction. If I liked you for your looks, then technically I would actually be liking Ryou's looks. With that logic, I really ought to have picked Ryou and not you. I mean, his personality is far more bearable than yours. But you and I both know that's not what happened.

If I were to pinpoint what I really liked about you, I honestly don't know. Truthfully, I hate more things about you than I like. But quantity isn't the biggest thing, right Bakura? The things I do like about you seem to be enough to counter all that. I'm not even sure 'like' is the right word. I don't like you. I don't love you. But I don't lust after you, I swear! So how do I even begin to explain?

It's what you do to me. The effect you have on me makes me want to linger right in the palms of your captive hands.

The way your fingers wrap around my wrists as you force me up against a wall. The way you lean towards me and sing sweet words of seduction to my ears. Then our bodies come together and the heat rises between us. We're touching and I feel like maybe just maybe, we're becoming one. Your lips crash into mine, a bruising embrace. And that tongue of yours doesn't beg against my lips but demands entrance. What am I supposed to do other than accept it? I find myself moaning in pleasure and wanting to chastise myself for doing so.

"I h-hate you..." I'd groan the instant you pull away. You smirk and say that my actions say different. You stroke my hair and speak some more but I'm tensing up way too much to concentrate. Your eyes seem clouded over and hazy; all you see is me. I feel like you want me and you make me feel like I want it too. Yet everything about you repulses me.

However that would just be contrasting what I said before, wouldn't it?

You pull me to the nearest bed – hell, I don't even know whose bed it is. You make me forget everything around me. Whether this bed is right out in the open or in somewhere secluded and private, it makes no difference to me anymore. You've already cast your spell over me to the point of no return. Our tongues mingle as one of your hands play around with the zipper of my hooded jacket. The zipper slides down and I discard the jacket without a care. Where the fuck is all of this going? You think you're in control, don't you? That's what you think, right?

Not this time, no. I hate your personality and I hate your looks. I hate what you do. Yet I love what you do to me. It doesn't make a lot of sense, does it? Maybe I do love you, I'm not sure. It's like bias and opinion don't matter anymore. Not when it's you... and me.

So I discard all emotion and understand what you seek. Pleasure. Sure, I'll work with that. So I shoved you onto the bed and got rid of the unnecessary clothing. The more we do, the more aroused each of us gets. But this time, this one time, I'll be on top. And you smirk up at me, keen to see where this is headed. I reached for the lubrication bottle and well, you know what happens from there on. Speaking of which, for you to have that there, you must have planned for this to happen all along.

I mention this to you and you stop panting for a moment to grin up at me. "Perhaps that is the case."

"...I'm going to fuck you," I say, more as a reminder to myself more than anything else. You snicker and comment sarcastically over how romantic that was. Nevertheless, you adjust your positioning for me. And I feel in control now. So I fucked you. I fucked you and you fucking loved it. Why did I do that? I shouldn't just fuck anybody, it has to be special. But I don't want to do these things with anybody else. It has to be you, Bakura. I'm not attracted to your body or you, the spirit within the body.

To an onlooker, it looks like I've fucked Ryou. Yet I didn't. I fucked a body that just happens to belong to Ryou. But it's also your body yet it's not your body.

We finish only when exhausted. Our lips are swollen from our bruising kisses and our bodies ache all over. We lie in the bed together and you wrap your arms around me possessively. "You're mine, Marik Ishtar... All mine," you tell me, licking your lips as you speak. I ponder the statement.

"Perhaps that is the case," I reply, but I agree wholeheartedly in my mind.

Because I love the power you have over me. I love the way you've seduced me to the point where all that can satisfy me is you. I love hating you in order to keep you wanting to win me over. I love the repulsion I feel as the two of us desire more from one another. I don't think you love my looks or personality either. And that's fine.

Neither of us feels the need for commitment yet we are committed to each other. Never will you buy me a present for his birthday nor will I treat you on Valentine's Day. Our relationship is, yet isn't.

How much sense does it make? None at all, probably.

"I love you..." you suddenly whisper for the first time as you drift off into sleep. My eyes widen. What? Why would you say that?

"...Don't say things you don't mean," I mumble in response. His body twitches at my words.

"Fucking prick."

And with that, you fall asleep. I lie on my back and consider your words. What they mean and how I should treat them. Maybe all this is more to you than I realise. Or was it just this moment and you felt like saying that? Ugh.

I'm too tired so I choose to sleep as well. You'll be gone by the time I wake up anyway. That's how it's always been. We meet up, we conspire, we fuck, we sleep, I wake up and you're not there.

But the next morning is different. I wake up and you're still there by my side for the first time. Your eyes are still closed in sleep and I have no idea why things are changing. They shouldn't be major changes but to me the diversity is overwhelming. Maybe... just maybe you meant what you said with those words of 'I love you'. It couldn't be...

Is our relationship starting to change? Have you finally started to... fall for me? But why? I shake you awake out of impulse. You look at me with sleepy eyes and you grin.

"...Surprised to see me here?" you ask as if you knew exactly what was on my mind. I nod, feeling my face grow hot. "Do you want me to leave?" I shake my head. "Well, that's a start. Usually you have that in-denial thing going on and you bitch at me to get out if I show up out of the blue. Except this time I've been here the entire time."

What, what?! "In denial? What do you mean? I'm not in denial!" I snap at you and you laugh.

"There you go!"

"I'm not!" I insist.

"Well then," you turn onto your side and look me straight in the eyes, "I'm going to be around you a lot more from now on. I mean, I can seduce you into sex anytime now so I accomplished that challenge. Remember when you got all bitchy at the thought of kissing another guy? Utterly hilarious."

I shook my head. I totally don't remember that! Or more I blanked it out of my memory. That's probably it.

"No way, I did it out of choice, not because you seduced me!" I respond, jumbling words into a sentence without really caring what I just said. Wait a second, what the fuck did I just say?!

You sigh. "In any case, I thought of a new challenge last night. I'm going to make you fall completely, fully, irrevocably in love with me. I think it'll be fun. After all," your fingers tangle themselves in my blonde hair, "usually I fuck you but last night it was the other way around. With that logic, if I love you then you'll love me back someday." I feel my face going redder and hotter with every word he speaks. How can you say all this?! For fuck's sake!

"I hate you," I growl. You think you can do anything you want because you're goddamn Bakura. Yet part of me is excited. I can't wait to make this difficult for him and have him truly win me over.

"Knew you'd say that," you reply and you plant a kiss on my forehead and turn over on the bed again. "But you kept me awake half the night, damn you. Good night!"

I avert my eyes between you and the clock on the bedside table. Then I glare. "Screw you, it's almost midday!" I fall my head back onto the pillow and groan loudly. Stupid Bakura, stupid Bakura, stupid Bakura! Then I think to myself some more.

He says he'll love me, didn't he?

...I'd like that.