Linder climbed down the stairs with the urgency the situation required. He didn't take his time, but neither did he rush. That type of bruise wasn't anything he had never seen before.

He'd seen a lot worse. Unfortunately, on ninety nine percent of the time, it had been the people he loved the most. He'd rushed home on more than one occasion to find his lovely sister tending to his brother; bedridden, weak and seemingly with a leg drawn back, ready to kick the bucket.

Their father had been at it again. He drank as much as a fish in water, and for some reason it made him violent. The alcohol impaired his vision, making his children blur before his eyes and morph into punching bags.

His mom was the one working her ass off to provide for them, the secret behind the success of his drinking business. They profited nothing, and lost all respect and affection they had ever had towards him.

Lily—his sister—was strong, he knew that more than anyone. And that's why he counted on her to protect their brother just a little longer.

Just five more months.

The little accident had triggered the memories which now faded as he pulled the handle of the fridge to study the contents inside.

ice... ice...

Right there. It was just next to the tortillas. Linder poured cubes in an ice bag and turned to leave.

The tall, lanky man closed the door of the fridge to see Pierre waiting and looking shy. His beautiful face turning away from Linder.

Linder stepped back defensively as he hadn't been expecting to see anyone so close. Pierre didn't even give him a chance to properly look at him.

He muttered a quick 'sorry' before going to pick what he wanted.

Linder walked away. When the footsteps had reached further away, Pierre's anxiety told him it was safe to look. Linder had been carrying an ice bag. Was something wrong? Was somebody hurt?

His brain couldn't put up any plausible suggestions so Pierre let it go and decided to focus on the task at hand; cheesecake for the Master.

When he got back to the kitchen island, Pierre fished out a springform pan and some mixing bowls. Finally, he had everything he needed.

He was just about to put cream cheese in a mixing bowl when he noticed Zel. The little guy approached him happily, walking like he had springs under his feet.

"Hi! What are you making?" Zel's eyes brightened in wonder. He sat on a stool and rested his elbows on the counter, cradling his chin under his hands.

Pierre went ahead to add sugar and cream cheese in a mixing bowl. The mixture of white and brown resulted into a color similar to Zel's hair but just not quite. "A cheesecake," he replied.

"Ohh I love those!" Pierre smiled at the statement.

If there was only one person that Pierre was going to talk to during his time here, he hoped it was Zel. For whatever reason it was, something about his clueless nature and curious eyes seemed to put him at ease.

He'd bitten back a smile a few times when Zel was acting out with the Master or when he was just being himself. And now here he was, talking to him.

"Really?" Pierre asked.

"Absolutely! I just never learned to make it. My dad
says I have the shortest attention span and this was one of the pastries he couldn't get me to learn. My first attempt left the entire kitchen covered in cream cheese!"

Pierre's expression turned horrified as he paused to look at Zel.

"It was a small kitchen, probably not even half of this one so yeah, that's understandable right?" Zel shrugged and laughed a sweet sound.

"Hmm... I don't get it. How can it be that bad?" Pierre laughed softly and continued working.

"You'll teach me one time won't you?" He'd teach him any time he wanted. Pierre just couldn't believe Zel was asking him.

"It would be my pleasure," he said. It sufficiently hid his happiness.

As Pierre got busy with the batter, his attention was soon diverted and he watched as Riley came up slowly behind Zel, with both hands reaching out. He poked the blonde haired man on either side of him.

Zel nearly jumped off his seat, hands flailing then body falling backwards only to be stopped by Riley's waiting chest.

"Whoah! Riley!" Zel squealed. "You have to stop doing that!"

Pierre laughed quietly. The back of his mind trying to think exactly how many times the bigger guy—Riley—had done it.

Everything blended perfectly in the bowl, even as he shook lightly with his laugh.

He looked up to see them both watching him, Zel on his way to free himself from Riley's grasp and the latter trying to right him, not letting go. "Oh wow," said Zel.

He couldn't control his blush as he turned back to give all of his attention to the mix.

"What is this?" Riley asked as he pulled up a stool next to Zel, giving Pierre an audience while he worked.

"He's making a cheesecake," said Zel.

Riley swiped up the cake mix, only to meet Zel's disapproval. "Hey! You can't just do that!"

"I just did," Riley said, his lips twisted into a wry smile. He laughed. Zel giggled. Pierre smiled.

"It's okay, I did that all the time," Pierre said.

Nobody usually believed it but he was such a naughty child growing up. It wasn't a day on earth if his mother didn't yell his name at least three times a day on the top of her lungs. Half the reasons had been touching things he wasn't supposed to, then trying to get away with it.

"See? He says it's alright. What's your problem?" Riley's tongue swiped up a tiny bit of the mix from the side of his finger. Then held out the rest to Zel.

"Try it, so good." Zel studied his finger— the finger that had just been in his mouth. Well a little part of it alright, but that didn't help the situation. He closed his mouth around the finger and sucked.

Pierre tried to tear his eyes away but couldn't. It looked so dirty, and yet so sweet at the same time. He finally looked down when Zel's eyes shot to him. A blush creeping up his cheeks.

Pierre tried to focus before he destroyed the batter he'd prepared heartily. The two men before him seemed so comfortable with each other. When did they get like that?

Probably how compatible their personalities were, he decided. Riley almost always had a smile on his face, Zel did all the time. They could each talk your ear off, it didn't matter who you were. It was the only explanation he could come up with as to why they got along so well. That and the fact that their rooms were literally separated by a wall.

It still didn't explain why every now and then Riley stared at Zel. When the latter kept on asking questions about the cheesecake, the other sneaked glances at him. Like he didn't want to get caught doing it.

Too bad though, because Pierre had caught it all. Especially when Zel had giggled heartily at something he'd said, Riley had stared as if he was utterly mesmerized, his lips parting ever so slightly, like he couldn't find the words he wanted to say next.

Zel didn't notice, he never seemed to notice a lot things, just breezed through everything that happened before him. An ability Pierre really wouldn't mind having.

"Right?" Zel asked Riley, tapping on his thigh.

"Right... right..." Riley said. He clearly didn't hear anything Zel had said.

Pierre was guilty too, he felt a little queasy at the realization. He'd been so engrossed in studying Riley that he hadn't heard Zel either.

Pierre was finally finished with the biggest part. It was fun to work with the other two constantly bickering like they'd known each other a long while.

Riley took another swipe of the final mix. "I could really eat this, there's like no need to bake it. How is it already so good?" Pierre's stomach fluttered.

"It tastes better when it's finally baked," he said. His stomach fluttered again.

"I just raised my standards, I'm only settling down with a man who knows his cheesecake this well." Riley laughed.

It was probably a joke, one that had Zel muttering under his breath.

"What?" Riley asked for two, because Pierre didn't voice his curiosity.

"Nothing!" He had guilty written all over his face but luckily, Riley didn't press and neither did Pierre.

Pierre walked over to the oven and put the mix inside.

"Can I have some?" Zel asked excitedly.

"Can we have some?" Riley corrected.

"Of course, it should be ready by the time dinner is done, so I'll bring everyone a slice okay?"

"You'll do that?" Pierre couldn't understand why Zel looked a little shocked.

"Yeah of course, I was going to give you some anyway."

꧁_________________꧂

Dinner was really strained. The Master was angry. Really angry. He'd come back with some sort of temper, luckily for the men, the anger wasn't directed towards them.

Clive— as Pierre had come to learn— was the guy who had injured himself or something, probably the reason why Linder had taken up that ice.

The moment the Master had entered the house, the mood and ambiance changed, almost like a dark blanket was cast over it. A little dramatic but Pierre was pretty sure flowers could wither at the time.

He'd been going to the kitchen every now and then to check on the cheesecake.

It was somewhere between his third and forth trip that he heard the voices carry from above.

Pierre followed it out of habit. His mischievous streak hadn't completely died, he realized as he pressed his hands at the door of the study first, then his ear.

"It only works when you listen to me. You do as I say!" The Master was saying. He seemed really pissed.

"Why are you so obsessed with control?! It was just an accident, you can't decide those. These things happen Mr Ka-" Clive's voice said.

"Not if I can help it! Did I not say to buy a new one?"

The room went quiet and Pierre realized he'd been holding his breath. Like he was scared he would breathe blaring sirens and out himself.

He released his breath. Sirens didn't blare.

The breath fanned his fingers in warmth, the wood of the door cool against them.

"Did I..." he heard footsteps. "...not say, to replace it?"

"You did, sir," his voice said.

"And you listened?"

"I did not-"

Before Clive could properly finish, Pierre heard a loud sound. He flinched against the door and stepped away from it. It was like a chair had been turned over, or flung against the wall. Something had definitely been broken.

"I'm sorry- "

He took the shaky voice as his cue to leave, whatever was on the other side of the door was too intense, he'd wanted none of it.

So seeing the Master eat with so much anger in his eyes made his tongue stuck inside his mouth. It was the quietest dinner of his life.

Usually while they ate, at least three people had to tell the Master something, anything. Zel usually said everything on his mind but today even he, was tongue tied.

There was none of that. The food looked really good, Mason prepared it so that went without saying. Secretly, anything the man cooked was his favorite. But tonight even Pierre couldn't focus so much on the exquisite taste.

His mind had been stuck on the Master from the moment he sat at the table.

Even when angry, Pierre couldn't help but notice how devilishly handsome he was. Some people really did have it all. He couldn't think of one thing the Master lacked, no matter how hard he tried.

They were like polar opposites. From whichever angle Pierre compared.

After trying to avoid eye contact with the Master for most of the time, dinner was finally done.

It was only supposed to be for the Master but everyone got a slice of cheesecake. Even Jet whom Pierre was sure was going to slam the door in his face, took it.

Pierre had also learned that his tattoos didn't just stop at his hand as he leaned on his doorframe with no shirt on and his pants riding dangerously low on his hips.

If Pierre had kept looking to see where the tattoos ended, he'd have dropped the plate and wasted his trip and good gesture.

He'd been right about one thing though, the door had been slammed in his face, right after Jet had taken the slice.

At least he took it.

There was just one more person. The actual person he'd done this for. Pierre wondered if he'd get turned away, yelled at or worse.

It was either courage, bravery or just sheer stupidity. Whichever one it was, had Pierre knocking at the Master's door, a slice of cheesecake weighing heavily on his hand.