AN: I'm going to make this note right off the bat. The title should be written with 'friends' crossed out but that format seems not to be supported. I like the title too much like that to change it to something else.

And yes, I have started another long fic (expect a novel). This one will update far more regularly I'm sure though.

A threesome lies within. Beware of the kinks.

"Quit making a ruckus out there will ya!" Gilbert snapped from the couch floating in the otherwise empty room. A rather dignified whine drifted from the doorway. Gilbert didn't know how a whine could sound dignified, but Francis managed it.

"Your couch isn't the only piece of furniture we have, Gil! This doorway…my god, this would be easier if I had some help," the blonde continued to complain. His grunts drowned in a sea of thumps and scruffs. Gilbert watched Francis push from behind at a brown vanity set with white trim, its mirror taped up in bubble wrap. He raised an eyebrow as the object continued to catch on the slight raised edge of the doorway.

"Wow Francis. Your stuff is really pretty!" Antonio grinned as he walked up. The other two turned in time to see him blow the cute taxi driver a kiss. He picked up a battered brown travel case from the curb, a knapsack already slung across his back. Still grinning, he peeked into the U-haul truck. It was the small rentable kind and Francis jammed it full of all sorts of goodies. "Sure must be nice being rich."

"Yes, yes it is. But money isn't doing me much good right now. You're late." In retrospect, Francis should have tried pulling the vanity in from the front. He could carry the relatively small object fine except he couldn't fit it and himself through the doorway. Now he couldn't get past the piece of furniture to try dragging. Sighing at the thing in frustration, he placed his hands on his hips. In reality, he wasn't glaring at the furniture. His eyes were on a certain younger male lounging across the back of the couch—so far the only furniture to make it inside.

"Sorry! A friend called." Antonio dropped his luggage to aide Francis, not that it did much good. The front end still wouldn't lift over the ledge. The two grunted together and Gilbert offered a bright smile and thumbs up, not even blinking when Francis whispered murderous phrases in his direction. The vanity bumped into the white door frame.

"Ah, ow! My finger!"

Once again, the furniture righted itself in the middle of the doorway. "Gilbert, you useless bastard. Help out already! We promised to move in together." Blue eyes searched the lazy man's face. "Not just take in our own things. You promised."

Gilbert's smile twitched, going from smirkish, to falsely happy, to pouty in a span of three seconds. He blinked once, his only sign of surprise. Francis shot down his argument before he could even speak it and it still surprised him how after one year, someone could guess his next words so well. He wouldn't show it, but Francis made him feel a little guilty. Gilbert and Antonio didn't have a lot to chip in, but they all insisted on renting the house together. Francis currently footed most of the bill along with supplying furniture and cooking utensils (he was very picky about them after all).

Francis gestured behind him to the U-haul. "If you don't want my things, you can sleep on that couch and I'll take this all back." Of course, letting go with one hand caused the vanity to slip and Antonio flailed under the weight, barely saving the mirror from smashing into the wall.

"Francis!"

"Sorry…" he muttered and replaced his hand.

Gilbert sighed as if in no hurry, but he crossed half the room before Antonio finished stabilizing the vanity. "Fine, fine. But only because you weaklings can't manage without my awesome self. If you beg me, I mi–"

"Gilbert!" two voices wailed.

He grabbed the front end and within seconds they pulled the thing inside and set it against a wall in the larger bedroom. Francis claimed that one beforehand, leaving the smaller, connected rooms for his friends.

"Well come on, there's more isn't there?" Gilbert exclaimed. He led the way outside, stifling a self-satisfied laugh as if he just won an award instead of moved a small piece of furniture. Francis and Antonio exchanged a look and came to the same thought. What a fake noise. But they were used to Gilbert stroking his ego and they let him because he couldn't function without it. They would always be there to knock him right off the ladder if he got too full of himself. Seeing Gilbert admire his arm muscles as he hopped into the truck's back, Francis thought he was getting dangerously close to that limit.

Not noticing the looks being thrown his way, Gilbert moved to the largest piece and hefted it over the edge into the waiting hands. He may not have looked it, but the man could lift his weight and then some. All three stood about the same height, Francis being the tallest by a smidge. As the oldest and bearded one, he looked like the strongest at first glance. Though lanky, he had broad shoulders and hair on his chest. Compared to Francis, Gilbert was pale and slight. Young too, though he managed not to look it with his sharp face that few saw soften. The physical strength didn't match his body or personality at all. Antonio wanted to ask his secret.

With Gilbert and Francis on opposite sides and Antonio helping where needed, even the heaviest pieces were no match. An hour later, they finished the two loads it took. The house remained sparsely furnished since the rest was up to Antonio and Gilbert and a later shopping date, but it felt real now—truly theirs. Beds, two dressers, a kitchen and small coffee table, plus a few other boxes finished everything.

Francis closed the door and they blinked at each other. One second passed, full of childish grins and shared air, then they fell strewn across the room. Gilbert landed on the couch again, this time on his stomach, arms hanging over the side. He smiled with real happiness. "Isn't it great to do things with your own hands?"

Francis looked at him in bafflement from the rolled up rug he lay against. He started to shake his head no, but Antonio butted in first. "Why were we moving the furniture ourselves? You couldn't hire some people?"

A surprisingly smart question. Eyes turned to the brunette now sitting on the floor, rubbing his arms. Antonio wasn't complaining really. He shared Gilbert's sentiment that handmade craft and hard work meant more, but it was siesta time and he didn't plan to move truck-loads of furniture during it. He could be strong some time later when it mattered. At least he had the others to help. Moving by himself would be no fun at all. This was strangely fun.

Francis grinned nervously, pulling a hand through his long waves to free them from a ponytail. "…This was the best I could get so short notice. My parents don't spoil me as much as you think."

Antonio patted the other man on the shoulder, his look understanding. "There, there…I understand. It's all Gilbert's fault."

"W-what? Why me!?" Gilbert yelped. He balled up his fist but realized they both sat out of reach and he didn't want to move. Instead, he crossed his arms with eyes narrowed in a glare. Odd-toned reddish slits, like something demonic, had a way of persuading.

"Because you waited until the last minute to finish the paperwork," Francis sighed, not batting an eyelash. He was too tired to yell and instead stared up at the ceiling. If he unfocused his eyes enough, he could almost imagine a crystal chandelier hanging in the center instead of a drab brown fan. Was it possible to convince his parents chandeliers were essential? "I knew I shouldn't have entrusted it to you." Gilbert got back from summer break earlier than his friends though, being forced onto a flight weeks before school started because of cheapness. Despite not applying himself often, he had a neat, orderly way that got the necessary things done on time. If nothing else.

"Whatever, I finished on time didn't I?"

"Sí…" The Spanish word drifted off. The fact Antonio slipped into Spanish at all turned their heads.

"Did you…fall asleep Toni?"

No response. Francis turned back to Gilbert and tsked, smiling despite his look of exasperation. Gilbert chuckled back. "We might as well take a nap too. That retard isn't going to wake up until he's hungry. Late lunch sound good?"

"Hm," Francis hummed in agreement. "But share the couch will you? I can't sleep on the floor!" He offered his hand to Gilbert. The younger man sneered, but finally grabbed Francis' hand and yanked him onto the greying navy cushions.

"Whatever, just–" As if on cue, Francis inched toward him, one hand nearly around Gilbert's waist before he swatted it away. "Keep your hands to yourself! No cuddling. You get that cushion and if your hands cross over to my side, I'll cut them off. Got it?" he snarled.

"Stingy!" Francis pouted and rubbed his hand as if the swat injured him deeply. "How skinny do you think I am? I deserve more than one corner!" He tried to scoot over more, but the smaller man jabbed a foot in his side to keep his two cushions to himself.

With his eyes closed, Gilbert sat half curled on the seat with one leg still on the floor and his head pillowed on the armrest. "My couch…" he muttered, already feeling himself drift off.

Finally Francis huffed and gave up, crossing his arms and resting his head back on the couch top. He breathed in deep to relax his body. "Smells funny."

Gilbert's foot connected with his side one more time before the two settled into sleep. They shifted somewhere in their unconsciousness until Francis toppled over Gilbert whose torso lay stomach down, lower body twisted the other way, and knees bent over the arm rest. Their heads met in the center cushion, not that either noticed. Antonio didn't plan to tell them either.