Hey guys! I can't believe it's almost been three years since I actually posted something on here? Sorry, went through major writing burnout during college. Since then, I've graduated and started my masters in history, and I'm slowly starting writing again, and honestly, this piece was so fun. It was inspired by sitabethel's fic, "When He Fell In Love" where Bakura goes around getting ties for everyone, and I just HAD to write something with that in it.

Anyway, onto the content warnings, because every DV fic has them. I hope you enjoy!

CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of Malik's scars, self-harm (old scars and brief reference to SH ideology), drinking, drugs, (kinda rough in parts) sex

Note: Malik wears skirts and dresses because they're pretty and because he has sensory issues. But mostly they're pretty.

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Atem blinked up at the ceiling light, suddenly far more sober than he was a minute ago - or at least, more aware of how drunk he was. He frowned, lifted his hand to his forehead. "Why am I wearing a tie around my head?"

That was all Bakhure needed to start giggling again. Giggling. Atem liked that word. It suited Bakhure's laugh too well. What was he talking about again? Oh, the tie.

He looked over at Malik, vision still swimming a little. Malik grinned and sipped whatever whiskey was currently in his glass. Atem had a feeling he'd cycled through at least a dozen different ones. "Ryou thought it would be funny, like in anime when parties get messy, and you wanted something pretty."

Atem toyed with the end of the tie. Ornate golden dragons chased cherry blossoms up the silk fabric. It was pretty. A generic electric beat thrummed in his ears and he looked around the bar. He hadn't exactly forgotten they were in a bar but-

Fuck, he was fucked.

Bakhure's giggling - gods that was cute - eased a little and he shoved a shot glass at Atem. "Come on, drink it."

Atem grimaced and picked it up. "What is it?"

"Drink it and I'll tell you," Bakhure replied.

It was weird to think that only a few years ago, it would have been poison, so Atem chose not to think about that. He was still too drunk and had too many of those realisations over the years to care. Instead he threw back the shot without tasting it and placed the glass on the table. "There. What was it?"

Bakhure leaned in, almost falling off the stool he was perched on, and reached over to boop Atem's nose. "Water." He started giggling again.

Atem snorted at that, resting his head on the high barrel-table. "You're so drunk."

"You're one to talk." Bakhure patted the top of his head. "Hey, where'd the others go?"

Atem lifted his head again to look around. The lights were strikingly warm but still extremely dim, and dark bodies weaved in and around tables. However, he couldn't spot Yugi's telltale spikes or flashes of Ryou's white hair in the light, or even Seto's six foot something ridiculous self.

Beside him, Malik reclined a little. Atem squinted. How Malik had managed to get the only cushy looking armchair in a Domino bar was beyond him. "They went home." He swirled the whiskey in his glass and finished it. "Yugi tried to bring you too, but you said, and I quote, 'No, Bakhure's getting me pretty things'." That set off Bakhure's giggles again and Atem rubbed his head.

"The tie is very pretty."

"Pretty tie for a pretty prince," Bakhure declared.

"Fuck, how high are you?" Malik asked, despite the smile still on his face. Atem had almost forgotten the sneaky joint Bakhure had shared with him in the smoking area earlier, out of the way of the cameras and Yugi's watchful gaze.

Bakhure paused as though to think about it. "As baked as... whatever Ryou likes making." Atem snorted. "At least I tried!"

"Right." Malik put down his glass and stood. He had matched them drink for drink but he moved with the same elegance as always, kohl sharpened to perfection, eyeshadow still beautiful, not a sequin out of place on his outfit. "If you're too hammered for puns, it's time to go home."

"I'm not too hammered," Bakhure protested. He looked over at Atem for confirmation.

Atem simply twirled the end of his tie. "Where did you get this anyway?" Bakhure grinned. "You're such a dick."

"If you want," he said, "I can always give it back. I'm sure the prick I took it from never even noticed it was gone."

"No." Atem held it on his head, as though Bakhure were about to reach for it. "It's pretty. It's mine now."

"You're too drunk for puns-" Malik turned to point at Atem. "-and you're condoning thievery. It's time, let's go."

Bakhure whined but reluctantly hopped off the barstool.

Malik extended his arm, bent, for Atem to take, and Atem couldn't even be mad that it did actually help him get up without tripping. "Thanks."

"Not a problem." Malik didn't pull his arm away and Atem leaned into him, following him out of the bar with Bakhure trailing behind.

Out on the street, the streetlamps were somehow brighter than the light inside the bar, and Atem squinted against it. Malik's heels clicked on the sidewalk. He was already tall, but the heels made him easily a head taller than Atem. Not that he'd complain - between them and the black leather skirt, Malik's legs looked far too good.

It took Atem a moment to realise they were still walking. "Where are we going?"

"Our place." Malik turned to smile at him. It sounded so welcome, so familiar, it took Atem a second to remember he meant Malik and Bakhure's apartment, and that Atem was not a part of that. "It's closest."

"I can get a taxi-"

"Nope." Bakhure stepped out from behind them to bump Atem with his shoulder, falling into step with them. He also looked far too good to be fair, in tight ripped jeans and a tank top despite the cold, with tattoos and scars spiralling down his arms. "You're not getting a tazi home along- a ta- a t- fuck."

Atem snorted at that. "Want to try again?"

Bakhure frowned at him. "You're not getting a taxi home alone in this city."

"Agreed." Malik gave Atem's hand a small squeeze with his arm, and Atem realised he was still holding on like a- fuck, a what's it called from Bridgerton. A duchess. That's the one. "Besides, I have plans."

Atem's mouth went dry and he licked his lips. Bakhure and Malik were together but quite open about being polyamorous. They'd been... flirting? Maybe? For over a year. Or maybe Atem's idea of friendship with them was just so fucked that he viewed any kindness they extended as flirting. "Plans?"

Malik looked at him and grinned. "Most devious plans."

Bakhure leaned on Atem's shoulder, lips brushing his ear. "We're gonna get McDonald's."

Atem's eyes lit up. "Oh gods, I would kill for a veggie burger right now."

"That's what I thought." Malik chuckled.

Chuckled. That was a cute word too. Definitely Malik's laugh and not Bakhure's though. Atem had no idea how else to explain it, but Malik chuckled and Bakhure giggled, and it was cute.

"You really don't mind me coming back?"

"Atem." Malik glanced at him. "How many times have we gone drinking together at this stage?"

Atem scrunched his nose. Once or twice a month plus holidays and fun times was... too much math for him even when sober.

"Exactly. You know by this stage you're always welcome at ours." Malik winked. Or blinked. Was that flirting? He really was too drunk for this.

"Alright," Atem sighed, leaning into him. "If you're sure."

"We are." Bakhure bumped him again. "If we weren't, we'd go to yours in a taxi, and go right back home after."

"You know we have no issues telling people to fuck off," Malik confirmed.

"Mm, that's true." Atem closed his eyes for a second. "Can we also get... those mozzarella stick things?"

"Oh fuck yes," Bakhure groaned. "Absolutely."

Malik laughed and pulled out his phone, releasing Atem in the process. "I'll order it now so it won't be long once we're home."

Home. Again, it felt so inclusive that Atem forgot - or maybe was too drunk - to be sad that he wasn't a part of that. Bakhure elbowed him as Malik began ordering, and leaned in to whisper, "Pretend I'm saying something conspiratory."

Atem gasped. "No."

Malik glanced over, eyes narrowed.

Bakhure nodded and leaned in again. "Okay, okay, imagine if..." He trailed off, never finishing the sentence, instead whispering pure jibberish.

Atem snorted, but Malik seemed to think it was about whatever Bakhure was planning. "What are you scheming now?"

"Scheming? Us?" Bakhure stared at him with wide eyes. "Look at this face." He pinched Atem's chin between his thumb and finger. "Does this look like a face that can scheme?"

"Oh no." Malik shook his head. "Don't start that. I learned my lesson the first time we went drinking. Atem's no angel."

"Yes I am." Atem gave him an exaggerated pout. "Am baby."

"He's baby," Bakhure agreed.

"You're both fucking ridiculous," Malik sighed, a soft smile on his face. He turned into the apartment building and Atem stumbled, not having realised they were already there.

Bakhure's arm wrapped around his waist, steadying him. "I got you."

Atem caught his arm, hanging on for a second until, again, a bit of the drunk fog eased and he pulled back. "Thanks." He was imagining the disappointment on Bakhure's face. He had to be.

Instead of dwelling on the minor hallucinatory moment, he turned and followed Malik into the building, with Bakhure trailing behind him. They took the elevator, partially because even Malik was too drunk to safely make it up to the penthouse via twenty flights of stairs, and partially because Malik insisted life was too short to not use modern technology, especially when it was still a slight novelty to all of them.

Atem couldn't argue with that.

Malik pressed the keycard to the elevator's security system and the elevator began rising to the top floor. When it opened up into a tiny hallway, barely worth the tiny measure of added security, he unlocked the door, and the automatic lights turned on.

"Finally." Bakhure traipsed past Malik and Atem to drape himself over the armchair in the living room.

Malik wrinkled his nose. "Shoes, Bakhure."

Bakhure kicked his shoes off, and they landed back close to the door.

Atem laughed and toed off his own shoes while Malik just sighed and checked his phone. "Food will be here in a few minutes. You two pick a movie and I'll get us some coffee."

"Add whiskey to mine," Bakhure called.

"Absolutely not." Malik blew him a kiss, unstrapping his heels. "And you can get the food when it comes."

Bakhure flipped him off lazily, and Atem wandered over to the living room area to join him while Malik walked through the hall to the kitchen. Atem dropped onto the couch and Bakhure groaned.

"Noooo, you're too far away."

Atem leaned over, booping his nose. "I'm definitely not."

"Yeah you are." Bakhure reached out for him, missing. "See? I can't retaliate."

"What kind of nemesis would I be if I let you retaliate so easily?" Atem teased. He leaned back on the couch. "If you want that, you need to come over here."

Bakhure grimaced. "Too much effort. Pass me the remote."

Atem hummed but obliged, passing it to him from the low wooden coffee table. He glanced around the apartment. The two had only moved in together recently, so the apartment was new - photos hung on the wall; some art, some absolutely stupid shots of them from nights out, and a handful of cute ones that were probably framed at Malik's insistence. The cream walls were practically covered, actually, and so was the floor - full of custom mini-rugs and cushions to drop onto at any point. Neither Malik nor Bakhure were here for that minimalist trend, both preferring lavish displays of their interests and desires in every sense of the word. Words? Something.

"The place is looking nice," Atem commented.

Bakhure hummed, already flicking through Netflix. "Thanks. Still waiting on a few pieces to come in. Malik wanted custom shit."

"Bitch, like you're not the reason we have that Mario mushroom rug," Malik called from the kitchen.

"Yeah," Bakhure snorted. "That, and glass case of Monster World figures is all me, but-" He raised his voice. "-at least my custom shit is figures and not essential furniture." He looked at Atem. "You know we didn't have a proper bed for two months?"

"You told me," Atem snorted.

"Two months," Bakhure repeated. "He literally bought a temporary Ikea bed so he could justify getting a custom one."

"Shut up, Bakhure," Malik yelled.

Atem only laughed harder at that and Bakhure rolled his eyes. "It's true!"

"But now," Atem pointed out, "you have a cool custom bed."

Bakhure mumbled something that sounded like an agreement, and clicked into some C-rate horror movie.

"Beaster Bunny. Sounds awful," Atem mumbled.

"It is." Bakhure leaned his head back over the armrest of the chair to grin at him. "You'll hate it."

"No tormenting guests with shit movies." Malik placed a cup on the table and Atem jumped, not having heard him return. Malik paused, giving Atem an apologetic smile before looking at the screen. "Especially not ones you forced me through only last week. Put on something else."

Bakhure's grin fell into a pout, but he left the film and selected some kind of sitcom instead - one Atem didn't recognise. "Fine. This?"

"That's fine," Malik agreed, setting a second cup on the table. He wandered back to the kitchen but quickly returned with a final cup, sitting next to Atem on the couch. Far closer than necessary given the size of it, but Atem chalked it up to him still being drunk. "I'm not sure I'll be paying much attention anyway."

Bakhure groaned and rolled off the armchair to kneel at the table. "Then why did you force me to pick something else?"

"Because fuck you, that's why." Malik winked at him.

Bakhure grumbled but picked up his coffee to take a sip. Atem mimicked him, caught between listening to their banter and actively trying not to.

Malik shifted a little closer to him. "You doing okay?" He asked. "You've gone awfully quiet."

"I'm fine," Atem replied. He drank a proper mouthful of the coffee. "Still just... very drunk."

Bakhure grinned. "Don't forget high."

"And high," Atem conceded. He reached up. "Am I still wearing the tie?" He was.

"Yes," Malik replied, twirling the end on his finger. "It suits you."

"Right?" Bakhure grinned. "A pretty crown for you, my Pharaoh."

Atem winced and looked away. "Don't do that." He'd said something similar earlier, and Atem knew that, but the wording was different. It was different.

"Hey." Malik's hand was suddenly cupping his cheek and Atem started, looking up at him. When had he gotten so close? "You know he's just being facetious, right?"

"I-" Atem faltered. "I know." He glanced away, Malik's hand preventing him from turning his head. "I just..." He was never a good Pharaoh. He knew that now, despite what Yugi tried to tell him - despite the fact that he'd tried, so hard. And now, he was barely a good human, let alone a god. He'd already failed Bakhure and his family, and he'd worked past it as best as he could, but it still didn't sit right; Bakhure calling him my Pharaoh. He'd done nothing to deserve that title.

Malik hummed. "You know," he mused, "you're a better Pharaoh now than you ever were back then."

Atem snorted. "Now that I'm not one, you mean."

"No." Malik tilted his head. "Now that you're able to live."

Atem met Malik's gaze, and Malik held it, examining him far too deeply for Atem's current state. "I..." He swallowed and shook his head, dislodging Malik's hand in the process. "I'm not a Pharaoh anymore. I don't want to be. I just..."

Bakhure reached up, his hand taking Malik's place on Atem's cheek. "Then," he said, "a pretty crown for a pretty Atem."

Atem's face flushed, but before he could react, the doorbell rang and all three of them jumped.

"Fuck, the McDonald's." Malik turned back to Bakhure. "Go on."

"No," Bakhure groaned. "I'm holding Atem and he's being all cute."

Atem's blush only darkened, especially when Malik wrapped an arm around him. "Well so am I, and I paid for it, so go get it you parasite."

Bakhure grumbled but clambered to his feet and wandered over to the door. Malik rubbed Atem's arm, and Atem's attention was drawn back to him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I... didn't mean to bring the mood down."

"You didn't," Malik assured him. "Besides, we'd both rather you say it if you have an issue with anything we say." He met Atem's gaze. "Or do."

Atem's lip quirked up. "When did you two get so mature?"

Malik's grin returned and he gave Atem a squeeze. "Probably when we dragged you down into our degeneracy. We dragged you down but you pulled us up a little, I guess. Don't tell Yugi though. It'll teach him maybe we can be redeemed."

"Ew, redemption arcs?" Bakhure complained. He'd evidently already collected the food, because the door was closed and he had two bags in his hands as he walked back to the couch, though Atem never heard the door close. "Who's that? We only support bastardisation arcs in this household."

Atem snorted, leaning his head back against Malik's shoulder. "You're both terrible."

"Yeah, but you love it." Bakhure dropped the bags on the table. "No idea what's in what but I think they separated your vegetarian muck from my far superior meal."

"You're a brat," Malik huffed, grabbing one of the bags and peering in. Bakhure joined them on the couch, sitting on Atem's other side so he was sandwiched between the two. They quickly split up the burgers, putting the chips and mozzarella sticks in the middle to share at Atem's insistence. When they finished, Malik broke out a bottle of cheap wine, and they passed it between them on the couch while they watched the new C-rated film Bakhure convinced them to try. Bakhure was giggling, and Atem could barely keep track of the plot, definitely because he was drunk and not Bakhure's laughter, though he wasn't entirely sure there even was one.

"See," Malik sighed, "all of these films would be so much better if they were just gay."

"You could say that for most things," Bakhure snorted, taking a swig from the bottle before passing it to Atem. "Like... ninety percent."

"But then shit things would still be shit," Atem pointed out.

"Yes." Malik pointed a perfectly manicured nail at him. "But it would be better shit because it would be gay."

Atem frowned, trying to come up with a counter argument, but his brain fogged. "I... guess so?"

Bakhure snorted. "Malik has that affect on people."

"What?" Malik flicked his hair over his shoulder. "Awe-inspiring?"

"Stupefying," Bakhure decided. "But only because you're pretty."

Malik's cheeks looked a touch pink when Atem looked at him next, but his skin was too dark to properly blush. "I think I'm perfectly intelligent enough to stupefy someone under normal circumstances."

"You are," Atem assured him. "Bakhure is just being cute."

"You're one to talk," Bakhure huffed, half rolling onto his side to look at Atem.

Atem blinked at him. "I... what?"

"You're fucking adorable," Bakhure decided. "You literally went around booping people earlier."

"I mean... yeah." Atem shrugged. "I guess so. But that's just... fun."

"And so are you." Bakhure pressed his forehead to Atem's shoulder. "Damn it, you're not meant to be cute and fun, but you are. Very."

Atem's face burned and he glanced away. "I'm-" Turning away only ended with him facing Malik instead. "I-I'm not..."

"You are," Malik replied. "Cute, that is. Fun too, but incredibly cute." He reached up, cupping Atem's face. "Especially when you're flustered."

Atem sucked in a sharp breath. "I..."

"Hey," Bakhure whined. "I wanna play flustering Atem too." He twisted in his seat, rolling so suddenly he was stradling Atem's hips. Atem caught his hips, half as a reaction and half... Atem didn't even know. Bakhure grinned, pupils still dilated from the alcohol. "Hi."

Atem swallowed. "Hi."

"I like this seat." Bakhure settled into his lap. "Way more comfortable. And a better view."

"Right?" Malik dragged his fingers up along Atem's arm.

Atem's breath stuttered and he leaned into their touches. Malik shifted to nuzzle into Atem's neck, breath ghosting the sensitive skin there. Atem bit back a moan, tilting his head back.

"Fuck," Bakhure muttered.

Atem blinked, trying to make eye contact with him, but it was still a struggle with the alcohol in his system. "What?"

Bakhure shook his head. "You're just... so fucking pretty."

Atem took a shaky breath and leaned in, pressing his forehead to Bakhure's chest. Both Bakhure and Malik paused, and Atem let the breath out. "I can't tell," he whispered, "if you're serious or not." He glanced between them. "Is this just a game? Let's see who can bed the-" He took a shaky breath. "The pharaoh who caused all our problems?" Bakhure looked away. "Right..."

"No," Bakhure muttered. "It's not."

Malik shook his head. "It never was."

Atem turned his gaze to Malik. The direct opposite of Bakhure, he held Atem's gaze, chin jutted out, shoulders back. Every bit the king his name dubbed him. "Then what?"

"Fuck," Bakhure huffed. "Can't we just want to feel good? To make you feel good?" He dropped his head against Atem's shoulder. "I'm too drunk for this shit."

"Sorry." Atem dropped his hands from Bakhure's hips. "I can go-"

"No." Bakhure wrapped his arms tightly around Atem. "No, don't."

Atem swallowed, heart hammering in his chest.

Bakhure took a breath. "I'm just not good at this." He grit his teeth, gripped Atem's shirt. "I... I don't hate you. I haven't in years."

"I assumed," Atem admitted, a tiny smile on his face, "given that you haven't stabbed me."

A weak snort escaped Bakhure but he shook his head. "Stabbing is easy, but this? This... isn't..."

Malik reached over and gently rubbed circles into Bakhure's back before turning back to Atem. "We actually both quite like you."

"Like..." Atem's head swam. "Friends?"

"Fuck no." Bakhure peeked up to scowl at Atem and it was adorable. "Don't make me use that word."

"He avoided calling me his boyfriend for a year specifically because it had friend in it," Malik teased.

"Shut up," Bakhure sighed. He sat back on Atem's thighs. "Are you going to make me say it?"

"Say what?" Atem shook his head. "I just- I'm confused."

"We think you're pretty fucking hot," Bakhure said. "And funny. And cute. And- we like you, Atem."

"Oh." Atem's eyes widened. "Oh! Like... romantically?" Bakhure nodded, not meeting his gaze. "You have a crush on me?"

"Don't make it sound lame," Bakhure muttered.

"You are lame," Malik teased before smiling at Atem. Atem had gotten pretty good at recognising Malik's smiles since he'd started doing it more - smiling, that is. He hadn't seen a 'Namu' smile in years, but he'd seen plenty of tipsy, flirty, angry, and cocky smiles. Malik's smiles spanned a lot of emotions. This one he hadn't seen very often - shy. "But... yes. We like you romantically." He shook his head. "If you don't feel the same, that's fine. But this isn't a game to us, Atem."

"And if it is to you," Bakhure cut in, "we don't fucking want it-"

"It's not," Atem rushed to say. "I'm- I don't- I wouldn't do that."

Finally, Bakhure met his gaze. "Okay," he said, "so now that the awkward conversation and shit is done, can we go back to teasing you?"

Atem snorted. "Straight to the point?"

"Gay to the point," Bakhure corrected. "Ain't nothing straight about me."

"We don't have to," Malik assured him. "Like we said, this isn't a game. No bluffing, no pushing through, no winning or losing. If you want to stop for the night or take things slower, or not at all, we can."

Atem hesitated before leaning in. He paused for an instant, watching Malik's gaze flicker down to his lips before pressing a kiss to Malik's mouth. Malik's lips were soft, glossed and cherry-flavoured. He hummed and returned the kiss, but then Atem pulled back to give Bakhure the exact same treatment. Bakhure's lips were thicker, plush, and he kissed ironically softer than Malik did, still a touch hesitant. When Atem pulled back, he smiled. "Does that answer your question?"

Bakhure snorted and leaned back in. "You're such a nerd," he murmured before kissing Atem again.

A tiny noise escaped Atem as he returned the kiss, a squeak following it as Malik began kissing along his exposed neck. His hands held Bakhure's hips in his lap again, while Bakhure teased his hands up Atem's shirt to explore his chest.

Atem's cheeks burned and Malik chuckling next to his ear didn't help. Bakhure hummed and sucked Atem's lower lip between his teeth, pulling back slowly, eyes lidded. His lip quirked up when he saw Atem, already disheveled and breathing hard. "I think I'm winning the 'who can fluster Atem more' game."

Malik tilted his head, gaze still on Atem. "For now," he replied. "I play the longer game." He cupped Atem's face, thumb pressed to Atem's lower lip, and he reached up to gently remove the tie from Atem's head, placing it on the coffee table out of the way of the mostly-eaten McDonald's.

Atem parted his lips, sucking the tip of Malik's thumb, and delighting in the slight hitch of Malik's breath. They could definitely play to see who could fluster him more, but he fully intended to give as good as he got.

Malik huffed and leaned in to nibble Atem's neck again, and Atem whined, releasing his thumb to tilt his head back. "H-harder?"

Malik obliged, biting Atem's neck and sucking, and Atem moaned, gripping Bakhure's hips tighter as the pain shot straight to his growing cock.

Bakhure grinned, rolling his ass down into Atem's crotch, still toying with his chest below his shirt. Bakhure tweaked his nipples, pinching them between his fingers, occasionally giving the rings pierced through them a light tug.

Atem hitched up into him, one hand releasing Bakhure to wrap around Malik's waist as he sucked another hickey into Atem's skin. "I- I want-"

"Yes?" Bakhure murmured. He leaned in, lips almost brushing Atem's. "What do you want, Atem?"

Atem swallowed hard. "B-Both of you, I want-" He took a breath, trying to stop his head swimming. In the past, someone else usually took control here, but Bakhure seemed far too content in Atem's lap, and Malik was always a tease. He forced himself to meet Bakhure's gaze. "I want," he said, more deliberately, "you both to take me to bed."

Bakhure blinked, grin widening. "Yeah?" He grazed his teeth over Atem's lip. "And then?"

Despite Bakhure being his usual bratty self, or perhaps because of it, Atem reached up, tangling his fingers in Bakhure's hair and tugged it back. Bakhure's mouth hung open in a low gasp, pupils dilating. "And then," Atem murmured, "I'm going to fuck you until you forget to be quiet and calculated and you're screaming in pleasure." Pleasure, nothing else. Nothing else ever again.

Malik's laughter vibrated against Atem's neck, and he pulled back to fix Bakhure with a smug grin. "Even Atem knows how much of a bottom you are."

"Sh- shut up," Bakhure huffed.

Malik hummed, still grinning as he turned to Atem to kiss him again. Atem dropped his grip on Bakhure's hair and leaned into it, lips parting when Malik teased them with his tongue. When he pulled back, a thin string of saliva connected their lips, and Atem gave him a sheepish grin.

"While you're making Bakhure scream," Malik said, smouldering gaze holding Atem in place, "I'm going to do the exact same to you. Think you can manage to be in the middle?"

Bakhure giggled, breaking the tension of the moment, and Malik rolled his eyes, looking over.

"What now?"

"It'll be a train of kings," Bakhure giggled, and both Malik and Atem groaned. "Get it? Reign? Train? It's hilarious."

"Yes, we got it," Atem sighed, trying not to smile at the pun. "Are you still high?"

"Maybe a little."

Atem hesitated a little at the confession. Maybe they should wait-

"Don't worry." Malik took Atem's hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "We'll sober him up soon enough."

Atem's heart hammered in his chest, not necessarily at the hint of what was to come. "Are you sure?"

"I swear to fuck," Bakhure huffed, dragging a hand through his hair to push his fringe out of his eyes, "if we stop right now because I had a single joint earlier - not even, Atem, you took half - I will scream. And not in a good way."

"Okay, okay," Atem laughed, rubbing circles into Bakhure's back. "Just making sure."

"It's appreciated," Malik assured him with a gentle peck, "even if Bakhure's an ass."

"And a fine one at that." Bakhure winked.

A thwack rang through the air and Bakhure lurched forward with a surprised groan, Atem glancing just in time to see Malik pull his hand back from Bakhure's ass. "Come on, let's give Atem what he wanted and go to bed."

Bakhure stole one more kiss, rolling his hips down again, before pulling back and standing up with Malik. They each offered him a hand, and Atem swallowed before taking them. Neither of them let go as they led Atem to their bedroom.

The lights turned on as soon as the door opened, but they were dimmer than the living area, and when Atem looked up, it was fairylights - hundreds of them strung across the ceiling in place of a single bulb.

Malik gave him a sheepish smile. "They stay on all night."

"That's okay." Atem squeezed his hand. "Honestly... I don't like the lights off either." Thousands of years trapped in the Puzzle and then fighting darkness itself had left him wary of waking up in the dark, though nothing as bad as Malik from what he knew. He must have said something right though, because Malik relaxed and turned away to pull off the shimmering purple shirt he'd worn.

Atem glanced away, but as though he'd known what would happen, Malik turned back and immediately caught his cheek in one hand.

"Hey." He met Atem's gaze, eyes burning brighter than the lights above them. "My scars are not me. Understand? I- Look, I don't care if you see them. I want you to this time." He took a shaky breath. "I'm not saying go crazy with nails or anything, but you can look or touch or whatever you want, as long as your looking at and touching me."

Atem nodded, reaching up to hold Malik's hand over his cheek. "Okay." His voice shook a touch, and Malik rubbed his thumb over Atem's cheek.

"Is there anywhere you don't want us to touch?"

Atem swallowed, gaze flickering now. He had scars too - a few from battles, but he'd worn armour and had training so they were minimal. The main ones...

"I... don't freak out?" He whispered.

Malik nodded and Bakhure squeezed his hand, still holding it.

Atem took a steadying breath and stepped away to pull his pants down, kicking them away. White lines scored his inner thighs, straight and sharp. All old, from when he'd first come back, unsure how to process life. Before he started therapy with a contact of Isis' that she'd brought up to date so he could actually talk to them. But they were still there, and very prominent against his brown skin.

He looked up to see both of them staring, but Bakhure was the first to move, grabbing Atem into a fierce kiss. "Are we okay to touch them?" He murmured. Atem managed a nod, and Bakhure kissed him again. "Okay." And again. "Okay."

Malik joined him, kissing Atem's shoulders, unbuttoning the black floral shirt Atem was wearing. Atem tried to hide the whimper that escaped him, but Bakhure soothed it with his tongue in Atem's mouth, walking them backwards to the bed.

Atem dropped down onto it when his knees hit the mattress and Bakhure broke the kiss. "Scoot back a bit."

Atem obliged, sitting further back on the bed while Bakhure stripped off his tank and pants. The tattoos on his arms were random, not full sleeves, but at the shoulders, a few tendrils had poked through from a larger one - Diabound wrapping around his back. Atem reached up to touch it as Bakhure climbed over him. "She's beautiful."

Bakhure smiled. "She is," he agreed quietly. "Had it done a few months ago. It's my favourite so far."

"I can see why." Atem's smile grew, and Bakhure tilted his chin up.

"Slight change of plans, okay? Malik-"

"On it."

Atem looked up to see Malik had already lost his skirt and was holding a bottle of lube. Bakhure caught Atem's attention again with a tug on his nipple piercing. "Lay back."

Once again, Atem obliged, and Bakhure pulled away his boxers. Before Atem could ask what exactly the change in plans was, Bakhure was pressing soft kisses to the scars on his thighs, as though he could heal them. Atem squeezed his eyes shut. As much as he liked his lovers to be rough, he'd never imagined how much soft kisses, gentle caresses, would turn him on so much. With his eyes closed though, the first lick caught him by surprise and he gasped, eyes flashing open. Bakhure grinned from between his legs and wrapped a hand around Atem's dick, dragging his tongue up along it again.

"Fuck-" Atem bit his lip. "I-"

"Shh." Bakhure rubbed the inside of Atem's thigh. "Let us take care of you tonight."

Atem barely managed a nod before Bakhure wrapped his lips around the head of his cock.

"Ah!" Atem tangled his hand in Bakhure's hair again before releasing it. "Sorry-"

"Don't be." The cap of the lube popped and Atem looked up to see Malik just behind Bakhure with a wide grin. "You found his biggest turn-on in seconds."

Bakhure grunted and flipped Malik off, but Atem couldn't concentrate on that because suddenly Bakhure was dropping lower, tongue pressed against the underside of his dick.

"Bakhure!" Atem caught Bakhure's hair again, this time with purpose, and tugged.

"We've only just started," Malik reminded him. "We've got all night." At that second, Bakhure jerked and moaned, and so did Atem as the vibrations travelled to his dick. "And I believe you promised to fuck Bakhure until he was screaming."

Atem whined, covering his mouth. It was already too much, the kisses and bites, Bakhure sucking his dick as Malik fucked him with two fingers.

Bakhure lifted, stroking Atem but no longer sucking. "Move your hand before I do it for you. I want to hear how good I'm making you feel." He swallowed Atem's cock again, this time straight to the back of his throat, and Atem gripped Bakhure's hair tighter instead.

"Fuck! Bakhure!"

Malik hummed, adding another finger. "That's it. Show him how good of a job he's doing." Bakhure moaned louder as Malik's finger bumped his prostate and he hallowed his cheeks, bobbing his head, lips curled back over his teeth to avoid grazing the sensitive skin.

"Ah! More!" Atem guided Bakhure's head at the pace he wanted, already aching. He hadn't realised how badly he'd needed this, needed them, until he was in the middle of it. Well not literally. Bakhure was in the middle for now. The laugh that almost escaped him at his own realisation was stolen as the tip of his cock brushed the back of Bakhure's throat. "Shit!"

Malik hummed, stroking his own dick to the sight of them, spreading his fingers inside Bakhure. Bakhure rocked his hips back and pulled up, running his tongue over Atem's slit before deepthroating him again. One of his hands rose to fondle Atem's balls, the other still resting on his thigh.

Atem hitched his hips up and Bakhure moved his free hand to hold them down, and that only made Atem grip his hair tighter.

"I- I'm not- fuck," Atem gasped. "I can't-"

Bakhure pulled back and wiped his lips with a signature smirk. "My mouth that good?"

"Yes," Atem groaned, already too far gone to snark back.

Bakhure flushed and Malik snorted. "He's speechless. It usually takes me longer to get him there."

"Oh shut u-ahhh!" Bakhure groaned, dropping his head onto Atem's thigh as Malik pressed his fingers up into his prostate.

"You were saying?" Malik cooed.

Bakhure just groaned, pressing his hips back again.

"I thought so." Malik looked over at Atem. "Ready to take over here?"

Atem nodded, shifting beneath Bakhure. "You have to move if you want me to fuck you."

Bakhure grumbled but lifted up and took Atem's place in the bed, flipping over onto his back.

"Um..." Atem looked over at Malik. "I..."

"It's okay." Malik reached out and pulled Atem closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "You stay on the bed with him, I'll take care of you."

They kept saying that. Take care of him. Honestly, they really were fulfilling that promise. Atem nodded and stole another kiss before moving between Bakhure's legs.

Bakhure grinned at him. "Hi."

"Hi," Atem snorted. "You doing okay there?"

Bakhure hummed in affirmation, gripping the back of his thighs to pull them up. Atem's breath hitched at the view. "I'll be doing much better in a minute."

"You're such a brat," Atem huffed before sliding into Bakhure with a low groan.

Bakhure's head fell back against the pillows, so many of them, mouth open in a wide 'o'. "Fuck..."

"Fuck," Atem agreed. Malik's hands teased his ass and thighs but nothing more yet, letting Atem figure out a rhythm first. Atem pulled back and pressed into Bakhure again, revelling in the moan that followed. He leaned forward, forearms on the bed on either side of Bakhure's head, before beginning to properly fuck into him.

"Fuck!" Bakhure dropped his thighs, grabbing Atem's back.

Atem huffed, dropping to bite Bakhure's neck, payback for his own hickies - although that was Malik, but Bakhure was there and hitching up to meet Atem's thrusts, and moaning so fucking prettily whenever Atem bit harder.

At the first feeling of Malik's finger brushing against his ass, Atem had to remind himself to relax, but it was easy when Bakhure clenched around him. Malik braced a hand against Atem's back, easing a finger into him.

"Have you bottomed before?" He murmured. Atem lifted his head just enough to throw him a sarcastic look and Malik snorted. "Okay, have you done it recently?"

Atem hesitated and shook his head. No one was... palatable in the past few months. His friends had all paired off, relationships were short, and he wasn't one for one-night stands. "A few toys?"

Malik pressed a kiss between Atem's shoulder blades. "Good to know. I'll take it easy."

"Don't." Atem pressed his hips back and slammed into Bakhure.

Bakhure shouted at the ceiling. "Atem!" The new angle had Atem pressing right into his prostate.

Malik grinned against Atem's back and added a second finger, curling them up. Atem cursed, thrusting harder into Bakhure who clung to his back with a loud moan.

"Fuck, more!"

"You heard him." Malik spread his fingers. "More."

Atem happily obliged, caught between fucking himself back onto Malik's two- three fingers and into Bakhure.

Finally, Malik eased his fingers out of Atem and added some extra lube to his cock before rubbing the tip of it against Atem's ass. "Ready?"

"Yes," Atem groaned, resting his forehead against Bakhure's chest. "Please."

"So polite," Malik teased. "You could learn from him Bakhure."

Bakhure grumbled something in reply but his fingers ran gently through Atem's hair as Malik eased into him.

Atem gasped, gripping the sheets beneath him tighter. "Fuck-"

"Breathe," Bakhure reminded him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He was far too lucid, and Atem wanted to fuck him back into the mess moaning his name, but Malik's cock was wickedly thick, bigger than Atem's toys, and he wasn't even fully inside yet.

Malik rubbed the small of Atem's back, pausing. "You okay?"

Atem nodded, pushing himself up again. "I, fuck, I'm good." He rolled his hips, an experimental thrust, and choked back a moan. Malik's fingers were one thing, but sandwiched between Bakhure's tight heat and Malik filling him just right was a whole new level. "You can move."

"You sure?"

Atem rolled his hips again, faster this time, and Bakhure gasped, clutching his back again. "The man said go, Malik!"

Malik chuckled and gripped Atem's hips, thrusting into him.

Atem cursed and sped up again. Each time Malik thrust forward, he was pressed deeper into Bakhure, whose nails dug into his back and leaned up to smother his moans by sucking Atem's throat. Bakhure clenched around him and Malik pulled him back, thrusting harder and Atem saw white as he hit his prostate.

"Malik! Bakhure!" He sank onto Bakhure's chest again, letting Malik dictate the pace - or actually, letting Malik force his hips to move. He didn't last long - couldn't - and only a few minutes later, Atem was shouting their names and cumming as Bakhure purposely tightened around him and Malik slammed into his prostate. Still between them, Atem rode his high as long as he could before reaching back to tap Malik's arm.

Malik paused and Atem pulled out of Bakhure. Bakhure whined, and Atem quickly repositioned between his legs before gesturing for Malik to continue. Too far gone, Bakhure only noticed Atem returning the favour from earlier when Atem wrapped his lips around Bakhure's cock.

"Fuck, Atem!" He hooked his ankles over Atem's shoulders, hitching up into his mouth. Atem moaned, Malik still thrusting into him, faster and less precise now, but almost too good. He dragged his tongue around Bakhure's head before deepthroating him, mimicking Bakhure from earlier, and Bakhure screamed as he came down Atem's throat.

Only moments later, Malik hit his peak too, moaning their names like a prayer as he dropped against Atem's back. They lay there for a minute, leaning on one another as they caught their breath, before Bakhure shifted.

"You're both heavy. Get up here."

Malik hummed but reluctantly stood up, legs shaky, while Atem simply crawled up the bed to join Bakhure at the pillows. He almost jumped when Malik lay next to him, arms wrapping around him from behind. He'd expected to be on the edge, not finding himself in the middle again.

"Have fun?" Malik teased, gently tucking some stray hair behind Atem's ear.

Atem grinned, nuzzling between them. The middle wasn't such a bad position. "Definitely."

"Good." Bakhure's arms tightened around him. "I think it's pretty obvious we did too."

It was funny, how they talked for one another, but fitting in a way. Maybe one day Atem would be part of that too. Atem looked up at Bakhure, then twisted his head to look at Malik. "So you both... actually like me?"

Malik paused. "Was that not the more obvious part?"

Bakhure giggled, hiding his face in Atem's hair. "Fuck, I think I'm still drunk. But yes." His giggling subsided, and Atem met his gaze. "What... about you?"

The question was guarded, Bakhure's tone disguised with indifference so Atem's answer couldn't hurt either way. They'd need to talk. Atem knew that they'd need to talk a lot, but that was for the morning and days coming, and his answer was easy. "Yes." He leaned up and kissed Bakhure. "Yes." Then he twisted to kiss Malik. "Yes. I like you. Both of you."

Malik smiled, but Bakhure wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, does that make us a throuple?"

Atem cringed. "Never use that word again. Please."

"Still so polite," Malik sighed, trailing his hand along Atem's side. "So you don't like throuple and Bakhure hates anything with friend in it."

"I don't hate boyfriends," Bakhure huffed. "It's the one good word with friend in it."

Atem's heart stuttered in his chest. "So... boyfriends? Are we boyfriends?"

"If you want," Malik replied and Bakhure nodded in agreement.

A content sigh escaped Atem and he nuzzled into them. He did. "Sounds good."

Bakhure yawned. "Do you snore? Because I do. Sorry."

"I... talk in my sleep sometimes?" Atem replied, letting his eyes slip closed. "Usually after drinking."

"Wonderful," Malik groaned. "I'm never getting a night of peace again." He didn't sound too put off by it though, and he didn't move from cuddling Atem, though he reached over so he was also resting his arm over Bakhure. "I guess you can make it up to me with coffee in the morning."

Atem hummed, already half-asleep. Waking up to make coffee, even with everything they still had to work through and what was sure to be a sizeable hangover, never felt so exciting.

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Thanks so much for reading and I really hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review and I'll see you soon!