Hey, y'all. Sorry this is a touch late - I was travelling most of yesterday. But here you go!

CW: Listening to people have sex without their knowledge, smut.  

He wanted to kiss them so badly. All of them. He had managed to keep the idea at bay – for the most part. But all of the tension that came with this built up to a peak and burst a few nights after he and Mehi had been attacked.

Malik just couldn't sleep. It happened sometimes, and he began writing instead of trying to force himself – he found doing that resulted in even less sleep than tiring himself out. A plaster still covered his nose, but it wasn't broken. It would be fine in a week or so.

"Fuck, Bakura-"

His eyes flickered towards the bedroom door, and then the clock. Half past one. Ryou was probably sleep talking again. He had a tendency to do that.

He turned back to his article and frowned. What was the right wording to finish it? He needed a clever line.

A muffled moan echoed through the door and Malik looked up again. Okay. Maybe not sleep talking.

"Shh."

"Fuck!"

Definitely not.

"Holy fuck, yes! Ah, please!"

He bit his lip as the image came to his mind unbidden; Ryou on top of Mehi, hair cascading down his back, as Bakura kissed them both in turn.

He squeezed his eyes shut and closed his laptop. He shouldn't be thinking about this. It was creepy.

"Mehi!"

Bakura was thrusting up into Ryou now, and Mehi biting the latter's neck.

Malik's tongue darted out over his lips. What was he doing? Fuck, his pants were getting too tight, but he didn't want to deal with the problem.

"Holy fuck- Bakura don't stop!" A pause. "Oh, you fucking tease-"

"Sh, Malik's asleep."

"God, I don't care!"

Exactly. He had to be asleep. He had to be not listening to his roommates having sex.

Despite knowing this, Malik's hand slipped down his pants and he began slowly toying with himself, fingers running up his cock.

"Fuck me harder!"

He wrapped his hand around his dick and began stroking it in earnest, biting his lip to hold back a groan.

His head was spinning and he was half out of it with exhaustion.

An orchestra of expletives and groans burst from the room.

"Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, shit, fuck! Ryou!"

Malik ground his teeth together. His hand tightened and he snuck his free hand up his shirt, twisting his own nipples.

"Fuck, Mehi, don't stop! Ah, I'm gonna- ah!"

Malik's hand sped up, unable to keep it slow anymore. His face burned as he climbed to the sound of the three, and he quickly pressed against his perineum to avoid making a mess.

His hips jerked up as he came, grinding against the air for a second before dropping down again.

He panted for breath, his chest suddenly heavy, and face burning from shame rather than pleasure. He grabbed a tissue from the box and wiped his hand on it just in case.

In the bedroom, their moans reached a peak and faded into silence. Malik's eyes snapped shut as the door opened and someone peeked out at him. He feigned a tiny snore and shifted onto his side, face pressed against the back of the couch.

Apparently satisfied, the door was closed again and Malik opened his eyes. Fuck. He was a creep.

He masturbated to his fucking roommates having sex. What the fuck? Who did that? No one – not outside of creepy cishet romance novels. And there was a reason he avoided them. They were creepy.

He sighed, eyes slipping closed, the energy in his body eradicated. There was one benefit at least. One amongst the mess of negative results that could come from it.

Including the next morning.

He woke with Mehi again and did his prayers with her, as he had been doing since Friday, but he mumbled everything under his breath, hardly looking at her.

She seemed too tired to ask about it, or even notice – it was one of her first days off in a while, so she stumbled back to bed once she was finished. Malik returned to the couch and a fitful sleep, waking again to the smell of pancakes and coffee.

He stayed on the couch for a few minutes, not quite in the mood for the self-induced awkwardness to come. When he finally dragged himself into the kitchen, it was Ryou cooking.

He glanced back at Malik with a smile. "Morning. Did you sleep okay?" He seemed a little anxious. He usually waited for Malik to greet him before asking anything.

Malik plastered a smile across his face. "Yeah. Slept like a log."

Ryou relaxed and turned back to the pan. "I hope these are okay. I can do something else if you want."

Yeah, a kiss would be great. Oh, and a bit of forgiveness for the previous night. Thanks, Ryou. "No, pancakes are perfect. Do you want me to make Mehi's protein shake?"

"Yeah, please." Ryou nodded. "Today's her cheat day, but if she doesn't drink it now, she'll feel guilty and won't have what she wants for dinner."

Malik blinked but grabbed one of the protein packets. An odd way to phrase it since they usually all ate together, and had to compromise on what to cook or order. "That's fair. Is it Bakura's cheat day too?"

"Every day is his cheat day. He never sticks to his diet," Ryou snorted, scooping a pancake onto a plate. "But yeah. It's his birthday today."

Malik nearly dropped the glass. "Oh, fuck, I never got him anything."

"Don't worry – he'll love that," Ryou assured him. "Mainly because he'll be able to lord it over you for a while." Malik sighed and dumped the protein powder into the glass. "But we're all going out for dinner tonight to one of his favourite restaurants. Do you want to come?"

Malik glanced up at him. "I thought- don't you three just want to be alone for a bit? I mean, I can find somewhere else to stay for the night, or-"

"No, Malik." Ryou abandoned the pancakes and reached over, taking his hands. "We want you there with us. All of us." He smiled. "If you want to come that is."

Malik hesitated. Fuck. Last night was bad. It could get so much worse if he did this. But he really did want to go. Ryou was still looking at him, so Malik smiled. "Okay, but you'll need to make up some excuse for why I'm missing for the day. I need to get him a present if I'm going to go to his birthday."

"He and Mehi are going to go to a film I think." Ryou shook his head. "I'm not a fan of romance and that's Bakura's favourite. So I'll come with you."

Malik's face was burning. "You're sure?"

"Of course!" Ryou grinned. "Let me just finish breakfast and get ready. We'll go when they leave."

This turned out to be over an hour later due to Ryou's hair taking ages to dry and Bakura just being a lazy asshole – as Malik fucking told him – but it helped Malik relax. It wasn't awkward. Nothing had really changed; probably because none of them knew, but that wasn't really the matter at hand.

Malik ended up booking an appointment to bleach his hair for that day too. He didn't want to go to a good restaurant with his roots showing.

Ryou tried to get Bakura to do the same, but the latter just flipped him off as he walked outside.

Once Malik's hair was dyed and Ryou got a trim, they both went looking for a good present.

"You're better at this than me," Malik sighed. "I don't know what to get him."

Ryou shrugged. "Just get him something dance-y."

Malik shook his head. Bakura's entire day often revolved around dancing. He wanted to get him something he could enjoy without it being work-related. "No. What about a video game?"

Ryou grimaced. "That can get pretty expensive. Didn't your sister freeze your account?" She did. Malik had had to open a new one after his card was rejected paying for groceries. He had managed to transfer his money from an account his sister had no authority over into his new one, just in case, but it wasn't much – not if he was paying for dinner tonight as planned.

"Okay. Okay." Malik ran a hand through his hair. It still had that fresh just-been-cut feel. "What about... a pun? On a t-shirt?"

"Okay, if you can find one, that would absolutely be his favourite thing." Ryou grinned.

Malik matched his grin and pointed to the small stand on the sidewalk behind the other. "What about that one?"

Ryou turned and his eyes lit up. "Fuck yes."

Once they bought the t-shirt, they rushed back to the apartment to get changed and meet the others at the restaurant. Ryou ended up wearing a garish teal and purple jacket with purple pants, but somehow, he pulled it off. Especially with his hair down.

Malik went with something a little more classy to match the restaurant atmosphere – his usual earrings and necklace, a black shirt with a red collar and cuffs, and black pants.

They took the bus and ended up a few minutes late – which Bakura lorded over them as they sat down.

"You don't get to talk," Ryou huffed. "I'm surprised you're on time."

"Actually, I do get to talk." Bakura winked. "It's my birthday. I can do what I want." Mehi had come prepared to play the Hot As Fuck game.

Rather than her shayla, Mehi wore her hair pinned up beneath a dusty red headwrap. Her jacket matched the headpiece, and she wore a grey top, and a flowing red skirt that reached just above her ankles with fire patterns on it. Silver earrings dangled from her lobes, and she had abandoned her usual trainers for a pair of heels.

Bakura was just... Bakura. He had entirely ignored the dress code and had chosen a leather jacket, jeans, and a t-shirt that read, Yes I do ballet; that means I have the physical capability to strangle you with my feet. He had touched up his hair a bit though, which made Ryou grin and ruffle it as they sat down. "One day I'll find a way to force you into a shirt."

"No you won't," Bakura snorted, not even looking up from the list of cocktails. "Hey, they have one called Good Criminal. I really want that."

"Get whatever you want, honey." Malik grinned. "Dinner's on me tonight."

Mehi glanced at him and raised an eyebrow, but Bakura was the one to voice his concerns. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I got paid for those articles yesterday."

"Okay." Bakura grinned. "But this doesn't mean you get out of giving me a birthday present."

Mehi shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're actually the worst. He's buying you dinner. That's more than I did."

"Yeah, but dinner isn't a present."

"How about dinner and a small present?" Malik's lip tugged up in a smirk. "But only after we order."

"Deal." Bakura reached over and shook Malik's hand.

Once they had ordered – Bakura naturally choosing the largest steak on the menu as blue as it could come – he looked between them with an almost childish grin. "So..."

"Oh my God, here," Ryou laughed, passing Bakura a small wrapped box. The other quickly tore it open to find a gorgeous new pair of satin en pointe shoes. "I thought you could use them for your dance practice videos and stuff."

Bakura grinned as he turned them over. A big FUCK YOU stared up at him in white thread, stitched into the heel. "Thanks, Ry." He leaned over and kissed the other's cheek.

Malik elbowed him as Bakura turned to Mehi. "You just wanted me to coordinate with you."

Ryou smirked. "Yeah, maybe. But I like your idea better."

Malik glanced at Bakura as he opened the box – a Pop figure of one of his favourite video game characters signed by the voice actor. "Holy shit, Mehi."

She shrugged, smiling. "You didn't get to meet him that time because you were performing so I figured you should get to have his signature on something."

Bakura wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "Thank you." He knew she didn't like too much affection in public.

Despite all his demands for presents, he looked flushed and flustered and tried to hide it by pushing the wrapping paper under the table, but he kept the two presents in his lap.

After a moment, he turned to Malik. "Okay, your turn."

Malik grimaced and passed him a small gift bag. "Sorry I didn't have time to wrap it."

"As long as there's a present in here, you're fine-" Bakura pulled out the t-shirt and stared at it, an almost painful grin stretching across his face. "Yes." It wasn't anything fancy, but printed across the plain black shirt was eating ass is the only ethical consumption under capitalism. "Fuck yes. This is my new favourite t-shirt."

"Really?" Malik's neck itched and he blamed it on his haircut.

"Yes!" Bakura folded it and placed it in his lap as well.

Ryou gasped. "He folded it. Malik, he really does like it."

"Oh shut up," Bakura snorted. He rounded the table and gave Malik a small but tight hug. "I fucking love y- it. Thank you."

"No problem, honey," Malik chuckled, returning the hug. His chest tightened. This was it. This was the closest he would get without telling them. He would. He'd tell them. He glanced around the table. Tomorrow. He'd tell them tomorrow. That evening was about Bakura. He squeezed the dancer's arm. "Now go sit down again – I think those are our starters."

Oof okay so please never ever do what Malik did, and actually talk to people. That was NOT okay for him to do. Anyway, please review. See you on Saturday with an unplanned chapter so they get a bit of a break from the angst!