When Marik was seven, all he wanted was something pink. No one knew - or wanted to know - why he was so fascinated by the colour.

Maybe it was because his days were filled with nothing but browns and blacks and creams.

Maybe he just wanted something vibrant like his personality, or a colour to match his eyes.

Maybe it was because he wanted the girl tomb keeper around his age - Sanaa - to like him as she also wanted something pink.

Whatever it was, he just wanted something pink.

So when his eighth birthday rolled around, he was hoping for something of that colour. He had certainly dropped enough hints.

And yet, his present was a scroll with even more things to learn and memorise for the tomb keeper initiation.

"It'll do you good," his father had told him, clapping him on the back a little harder than was necessary as Ishizu watched him open his present with a proud smile.

He had forced a smile and thanked him when Odion had given him a look. But later that night, the scroll sat unopened on his desk.

"Hey," his younger brother called, leaning against the doorframe to his room.

Marik looked over at him. Kek should have been born first. He should have. He wouldn't have minded this work, and the initiation.

He wouldn't have liked it, but he would have preferred it.

But Kek had been born second. And although they were born on the same day, Kek's birthday was never celebrated because he had killed their mother.

"Hi," Marik mumbled, looking away from him again.

Kek was always a bit... bitter on their birthday. Understandably so.

Kek glanced at the scroll. "Not the present you were hoping for?" He asked with a smirk.

Marik huffed, extremely tempted to throw the damn scroll at him. "Shut. Up."

Kek laughed. "Oh come now. Is that any way to talk to your brother?" Marik didn't reply. "Marik." No response. "Marik, look at me." He didn't move. Kek sighed. "All I wanted to do was give you a present."

Marik perked up and looked up at him. "Present?" He hesitated. "But... I already got it..."

Kek rolled his eyes. "No, you dork. A different present."

Marik never got more than one present on his birthday. And it was usually something to do with his duties as a tomb keeper. "What is it?"

Kek pulled something out from behind his back and held it out to him.

Marik's eyes trailed over it. It was poorly wrapped in tissue, with several layers of the paper to make up for the tears in it.

"Sorry about the wrapping." Kek shrugged. "I didn't have much time."

"It's okay," Marik mumbled.

Kek threw him the package. "Then open it already. I want to see if you like it."

Marik caught it and hesitated. It was squishy. He decided not to shake it; he never shook presents after he had gotten a snake as a present from his father one year. A poisonous one, no less. "I didn't get you anything."

Kek huffed. "I'm not looking for a present. I'm used to not getting stuff. Now open the damn present before I take it back."

Marik tore off the tissue, not wanting Kek to take it. Kek had made the same threat when Marik hadn't played with a toy he had been given immediately, and the next day it was gone.

He paused when it was open.

Robes. Pink robes.

He slowly picked them up, holding them at arm's length so he could get a better look at them. They were similar to his usual robes aside from the colour, a small fold at the neck, and a slightly odd bodice.

"Sorry. I had to get you the girls' ones," Kek muttered, seeing Marik staring at the curves. "They didn't have any boys' robes in pink."

Marik slowly folded the robes and placed them neatly on the end of his bed. He stood up and slowly walked over to Kek.

He paused, holding Kek's gaze for a moment before hugging him tightly. "Thank you," he whispered.

Kek looked away, not reacting to the hug, though his cheeks were a bit darker than usual. "Whatever."

===

When Marik turned seventeen, the prospect of his one-year anniversary with Bakura came around.

And he hadn't told him.

Not that he liked pink; Bakura knew that already.

And he teased the shit out of him for it. But if anyone else said anything about Marik's favourite colour, Bakura would be on them like a werewolf.

No, Bakura didn't mind Marik's favourite colour.

What Marik was worried about was that Bakura would mind Marik's preference.

He had discovered it a while ago.

When Odion figured out what therapy was, he had sent Marik and Kek to it. Against Ishizu's wishes.

They hadn't gone to many sessions before Ishizu had pulled them out of it, but it had done them some good.

Kek had been prescribed anti-depressants, and despite Ishizu's insistence that he shouldn't take them, he and Marik would always sneak off and buy them whenever he ran out.

Marik on the other hand had worked out why he liked pink so much and why he enjoyed watching girls even though he was gay.

He liked cross-dressing. And he hated it. So, so much.

He hated how... abnormal it was. It pushed him apart from everyone.

Kek never really seemed to care. But he was the only one.

Marik's first boyfriend had pushed him out onto the road when he found out. Thankfully, it wasn't busy at the time and Marik had escaped with no injuries.

When Ishizu found out, she had burned anything effeminate that he had.

Odion... he tried to be accepting. But Marik knew it had changed his opinion of him.

In fairness, whose opinion wouldn't it change?

"Everything okay?"

Marik looked up to see Kek leaning against the doorframe of the apartment they shared with Odion. Ishizu had gone back to Egypt.

Marik sighed and nodded. "Yeah; Bakura's taking me out for my birthday tonight and I'm not sure what to wear."

Kek nodded. Birthdays had become less of a bitter subject now. "Here." He tossed a wrapped package at Marik.

Marik barely caught it. "What is it?"

"A birthday present. What else?" Kek raised an eyebrow. "Now open it."

"But I haven't given you your present yet."

"Just open the present, Marik. You can give me mine later."

Marik hesitated before looking at the present. It was neatly wrapped in pink tissue, with a layer of plastic film over it. A pink bow was tied in the middle of it, holding it all together.

"Did Odion help you wrap this?"

"Open the Ra damned present."

Marik laughed but tore the wrapping paper off.

Inside the pink paper was more pink. He slowly picked up the fabric and held it at arm's length to get a good look at it.

It was a dress that would almost come down to his knees. It was mainly cerise in colour, though the bottom of it and the sleeves were bubblegum pink.

It had no shoulders; the neckline spread into the sleeves. The sleeves themselves were rather flouncy. They were styled to cling to the arm until the elbow, and then fabric ran halfway down the rest of the forearm.

A brown belt with three golden loops was attached to the middle of it. And at the bottom of the paper lying in Marik's lap was a pair of bubblegum pink slip-ons to match it.

"Like it?"

Marik looked up to see Kek grinning at him.

Marik carefully folded the dress and placed it on the end of his bed. He took the shoes out of the paper and placed them on top of it.

He stood up and slowly walked over to Kek.

He paused, holding Kek's gaze for a moment before hugging him tightly. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Whatever." Kek chuckled and returned the hug. "Just get ready for your date. And after buying that dress for you, I expect to see you wearing it as you leave."

===

When Bakura knocked on the door, it was Kek that opened it. Kek grinned at him. "Hey, asshole."

"Hey, sand bitch," Bakura sneered in response. "Where's your brother?"

Kek leaned against the doorframe. "Waiting in his room for you. He has something he wants to show you before you leave."

Bakura nodded and tried to walk past him, but Kek grabbed his shoulder.

"Hurt him, and I'll rip out your tongue and force feed it to you." He roughly released him. "Asshole."

Bakura scowled at him. "Sand bitch," he repeated before making his way to Marik's room. Once there, he knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Marik called.

Bakura rolled his eyes. "The big bad wolf. Let me in or I'll blow your house down."

"You're not good enough at blowing to manage that," Marik laughed. "Come on in."

Bakura grinned and pushed open the door only to pause when he saw Marik. In a dress. He raised an eyebrow. "Not that I don't appreciate the surprise, but what's this for?"

Marik shrugged. He was clenching the sides of the dress tightly. "Nothing really. I just..." His grip tightened. "Like it."

"Like that particular dress?"

"No. Wearing dresses. And girls' clothes. I like it. More that wearing guys' clothes."

Bakura shrugged. "Okay then. Ready to go?"

Marik stared at him for a moment before punching his arm. "You asshole!"

"Ow!" Bakura rubbed his arm. "What was that for?"

"I've been worrying about this for months and you're acting so damn casual about it," Marik laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Kind of a let-down."

"What? Were you expecting me to shove you away, call you disgusting and leave?" Bakura snorted.

Marik looked away. "Kind of."

Bakura walked forward and placed his hands on Marik's shoulders. "Look at me." Marik raised his gaze. "I would never do that to you." He leaned up and pressed a kiss to Marik's lips. "I love you."

Marik grinned and wrapped his arms around Bakura's waist, murmuring against his lips. "I love you too. But you're still an asshole."

Bakura laughed and pulled away from him. "Come on; let's get out of here." His eyes ran up and down Marik's form. "Oh, and that suits you a lot more than jeans and a t-shirt."

Marik smiled at him. "Thanks, Kura."

Bakura chuckled. "Whatever."