Marik came home late that day, work being more exhausting than usual. He half-expected Bakura to be in the living room playing video games or drawing something in his sketchbook (which he would later deny), but on first glance the apartment seemed empty. Marik put away his coat and washed his hands before making his way to their bedroom. Bakura often napped in the evening, so it wouldn't be that unusual.
As it turned out, he was right. There was a suspiciously big pile of blankets on their bed. Marik smiled to himself and carefully sat down on the mattress, trying to be as quiet as possible - Bakura's hearing and reflexes were pretty good after his life on the desert, and Marik wouldn't want to end up on his back with the nearest object Bakura could reach pressed to his throat. (He much preferred it when he was the one on top.)
Marik hesitated for a few minutes, unsure if he wanted to wake Bakura up, or if he shouldn't interrupt his rest. Luckily for him, Bakura must've sensed his presence, because eventually he heard a muffled mumble and the pile of blankets started moving, until a sleepy Bakura emerged from underneath.
"What took you so long, bastard." Marik knew Bakura was trying really hard to make his glare look intimidating, but with his fluffy bed hair he looked like a grumpy kitten. He was wearing an oversized shirt and - as usual - no pants. Marik was grateful for it though, because that meant he could stare at his soft thighs all he wanted.
"Well, I told you I'd be home later tonight" he replied, and Bakura gave him another angry look. He was adorable. "It's not my fault that at least one of us has to work so we can afford this apartment, you know."
Bakura yawned. "You could always just sell your stupid jewellery and then neither of us would have to work at all." He gave Marik a challenging look, but Marik didn't take the bait this time.
"I've been home for only five minutes and you're already trying to start a fight Bakura, what's wrong?"
Bakura looked away. "I don't know what your talking about. You just piss me off, that's all."
But Marik knew that look on his face. "You missed me, didn't you?" he grinned, when Bakura still refused to meet his eyes. "It's okay, just admit it.”
"It really is okay Bakura, if you want we can just spend the rest of the night cuddling - "
"Say one more word and I'll kill you."
Marik could see Bakura’s cheeks were a little pink, and his heart felt warm. It was good to be home. He actually listened to Bakura’s request and didn’t say anything, just opened his arms and waited. Bakura sighed, but a few moments later gave in and cuddled up to Marik’s side, allowing him to wrap his arms around him. Marik pulled him close, enjoying the feeling of his soft and warm body. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Bakura relaxed in his arms, and Marik slowly stroked his back, fingers tangling in Bakura’s long, messy hair. At one point he turned his head to press a kiss against Bakura’s cheek, and he swore he could hear Bakura giggle (not that he’d ever admit it happened). His cheek felt very warm under his lips, and Marik had a sudden urge to hold his face, so he pulled away enough to cup Bakura’s cheeks and squish them. Bakura’s expression immediately turned into a scowl. “What do you think you’re doing.”
Marik just smiled at him, too happy to care about his boyfriend’s bad temper, and leaned in to kiss him properly. “I missed you too, just so you know” he whispered, and this time when Bakura blushed, he didn’t try to look away.