Malik walked into the apartment and shivered. He rubbed the gooseflesh off of his arms as he checked the thermostat. He frowned at the 60 on the digital readout and set it for 68 instead. He turned around to find the resurrected thief sitting in Malik's favorite chair with a fan almost pressed against his face.

Bakura squinted his eyes against the blowing air, his white hair whipping behind him like a blizzard. A fuzzy throw encircled his shoulders like a cape, but otherwise he only wore a dark purple shenti. Bakura had a popsicle shoved into his mouth, and Malik raised an eyebrow at the absentminded yet suggestive way Bakura kept sliding it in and out. His opal-colored eyes brightened when he noticed Malik. He pulled the popsicle away so he could speak, but the dark red color of fruit punch remained on his lips.

"Hey, Malik. Ever notice that you sound funny when you sing into a fan? Oooooooooooh—"

"Of course I haven't noticed. What sort of idiot would shove their face into a fan and make noises? And why is the air set so low? It's freezing in here."

"What kind of idiot goes outside when it's this hot?"

"Seriously, you lived in a desert. I'm sure you can handle room temperature."

"Fuck the desert. I'm eating dessert." Bakura lapped at his popsicle again. "I always hated the heat. I used to connect a tarp to a ruined wall of my old hut and lie there all afternoon praying for a breeze. The heat would make me sick, and I'd sleep like shit, and there was sand everywhere—"

"Alright, alright. I get it." Malik pulled the fan a few feet away from Bakura so he could straddle Bakura's lap. He did understand. It hadn't been as hot underground, but Malik still loved living with electric lights, and plumbing, and . Malik licked his lips. "So? You going to share that?"

Bakura pushed the popsicle as deep into his mouth as he could and shook his head no. Malik shivered, and although it was from the chill in the room, the way Bakura could make a popsicle disappear didn't help matters. Malik lidded his eyes and parted his lips, leaning in a few centimeters closer. Bakura tried to grin, but the popsicle kept his lips from being fully stretched. He sealed his mouth around the pop and pulled it out with a slow, exaggerated movement, smacking his lips at the end.

Malik waited, knowing he would get his way as soon as Bakura tired of his own defiant act. Bakura teased the side of the popsicle with his mouth, keeping his gaze locked on Malik's. He flicked at the tip with his tongue. After a moment of taunting Malik, he tilted the stick, offering Malik a lick. Malik leaned in further, but ignored the popsicle in favor of licking Bakura's ice-cold, tropical-punch-tinted lips. He managed to extort a quiet whimper from Bakura as he sucked on Bakura's bottom lip. Malik stole the popsicle from Bakura's fingers and gave it a broad, deliberate lick. Bakura's eyes unfocused as he watched. Malik sucked on the popsicle's end for a moment, drawing across Bakura's lips with the popsicle before leaning in and licking his mouth clean.

"Here." Malik crammed what was left of the popsicle back into Bakura's mouth. "I'm done with you."

Bakura gave Malik an indifferent snort before moving the fan close again.

"Where are your glasses?"

"Damn, I forgot." Bakura jumped up and ran to the bedroom. He returned with a pair of black, rectangular frames.

"Now you look like the nerd you are." Malik smiled, not admitting that Bakura looked pretty damn cute in them.

Bakura stuck out a red-tinted tongue. "Laugh all you want, but these are amazing. It would have been so much easier to avoid trap wires and weighted tiles if I could see this well back when I was robbing tombs."

"And now you use them to play video games."

"Well? Take me to a tomb and I'll rob it for you." Bakura shot Malik with his finger. "You'd look ravishing covered in the Pharaoh's gold."

"Yes. I know I would." Malik winked, going into the kitchen and grabbing two bottles of water for himself and Bakura. He shook his head when he saw Bakura, without his blanket, sitting in a beanbag chair in front of the TV. "At least you wear your glasses. Now if I could just get you into some real clothes."

"I'm wearing plenty. You should be thanking me. There are people on the internet who would pay good money to see me walking around in nothing but this all day long."

"Well, let's set up a live stream and make back some of the money you've cost me in the electricity bill."

"It'd be pretty easy to set up." Bakura took the water and gulped it down all at once.

"Calm down. You know there's an entire case in the kitchen, right?"

"Can't help it. It tastes good." Bakura pushed himself up and fetched a second bottle, sipping it instead of guzzling.

Malik sat on the couch, facing the TV but staring at the way Bakura's body shifted as he walked back to his bean bag chair. He really didn't mind Bakura in the shenti—except when they had company and he still wouldn't put on clothes. At least, Malik noted, Bakura had thrown away his popsicle stick. It had been a struggle to get him not to toss trash on the floor, and that wasn't because of his past life—Bakura was just a lazy asshole.

"You like what you see, don't you?" Bakura grinned.

"Hmmm," Malik hummed to avoid answering. "You know you're going to have to dress like an adult tomorrow when we go to the doctor for your check up."

"I don't wanna." Bakura scowled, dropping into his bean bag and crossing his legs even as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Malik wasn't sure if he meant he didn't want to wear clothes, or if he didn't want to go altogether, but assumed both. "Too bad."

"Why are you always dragging me to these stupid places? Waiting rooms are more boring that being stuck in the Ring."

"You bitched when we got your eye exam, too, but once you got your glasses you were fucking thrilled."

"Well, yeah, but that's because they're useful."

"Getting vaccinated will also be useful. I didn't bring you back from the Shadow Realm two years ago to have you die of smallpox. I gave you a couple years to adjust, you but promised you'd let me take you to the doctor once you got used to being in your own body again."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I just…hate things I've never done before." Bakura fidgeted with the seam of his beanbag chair.

Malik sighed. It was rare that Bakura ever said what he was actually thinking, especially if that involved feelings of vulnerability. Malik stood up and plopped down on the oversized bean bag beside Bakura. He flung his arms around Bakura's neck and pulled them close enough for their noses to touch for a moment.

"Look, if you put on a shirt, and keep the bitching to a minimum, we'll stop for frozen yogurt on the way back and then once we get home you can order that game on Steam you've been rambling about."

"How much is minimum bitching?" Bakura asked, pretending to consider the deal.

"Only three instances of bitching."

"I don't know if the new Mortal Kombat is worth only getting to complain three times."

"I'm not negotiating. Accept my proposal or I'll just drag you kicking and screaming to the doctor and leave you there by yourself."

"You wouldn't." Bakura snorted.

Malik lay his head on Bakura's chest as they both settled into the beanbag. "No, I wouldn't. Rishid stayed with me during my first check up. Good thing, too. I almost punched the doctor when he tried to stick that needle into my skin. Thank the gods my alter ego hasn't come back since I banished him or that doctor's office would have turned into a morgue."

"Is it that bad?" Bakura sounded calm, but his hold on Malik grew the slightest bit tighter as he asked the question.

"No," Malik answered, then answered with far more honestly than he usually would. "But I was scared."

Bakura grunted and then the room grew silent. Malik sat up, bopping Bakura's nose. "Hey, make popcorn and I'll pick out a movie."

A grin Malik was sure Bakura couldn't control lit up his face as he dashed into the kitchen. Once Malik had set up the movie, he wandered towards the kitchen. He was greeted with the sight of Bakura hunched over by the counter, staring at the microwave in fascination as the bag of popcorn rotated inside it. Bakura was so absorbed with his vigil over the machine that he didn't even seem to hear Malik sneak up.

"Will you never tire of that?" Malik asked, leaning against the door frame and trying to hide his smile.

Bakura didn't even look up. "It's fucking amazing! You can cook without fire! And it's done in a couple of minutes!"

Malik chuckled as he reached into the cabinet for a bowl. He knew as soon as the microwave finished its cook cycle and shut off, Bakura would lose interest in the device and wander off, and he would get stuck finishing the preparation of the popcorn himself.

Sure enough, moments after the microwave's beep sounded, Bakura turned and started rooting through the refrigerator. Malik didn't bother to comment, and took it upon himself to remove the popcorn from its bag and dump it into the bowl. When he finished and turned back to Bakura, he saw him rubbing a can of soda against his cheek and sighing in pleasure.

"I wanted a fizzy drink," Bakura said when he saw Malik staring at him with amusement. "It's mind blowing how you can just keep food and drink cold. I used to have to just eat everything before it went bad, and nothing was ever cool."

"Yeah, I get it. You know that's why I'm a vegetarian," Malik said as he got out the salt and sprinkled just a bit into their bowl of popcorn. "Nothing but that over-salted and dried out meat when I was kid. I couldn't stand it."

Bakura laughed. "I'll never forget the first time you tried real meat. I've never seen anyone barf so much."

"Shut up," Malik retorted. "That's what happens when you don't eat meat for your entire life and your body isn't accustomed to it."

"Might not have happened if you hadn't shoveled so much into your face at one time like a moron." Bakura smirked and dodged a playful punch as he headed back to the living room.

"You're one to talk!" Malik called after him. Though Malik had to privately admit that maybe he had overdone it when he'd realized how good meat could taste when it was fresh. Still, the vomiting incident had put him off of meat permanently.

Malik followed Bakura into the living room and joined him in the bean bag chair he'd plopped onto again, setting the bowl of popcorn in his own lap.

"What are we watching?" Bakura used the excuse of leaning over to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl to curl a bit closer to Malik.

"Final Destination 3," Malik said as he pressed play on the remote.

"Nice," Bakura said, and then was silent as he was momentarily entranced by the colorful images on the screen.

But several minutes later, Bakura was the one to speak up again. "I want to go on a roller coaster. You should take me to an amusement park."

"That's what you got out of watching a bunch of people die horribly in a gruesome roller coaster disaster?"

"But the rollercoaster looked like fun! Even more fun than your motorcycle, I'll bet."

Malik glared at him. "It would not be. Don't insult Death like that."

"Yeah, see, you named your motorcycle Death and you're worrying about danger? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? Anyways, it's just a movie. Accidents like that almost never happen in real life, I'll bet. What, are you scared?"

"I'm not scared because of the movie. I'm just saying there's no way a roller coaster is more fun than my motorcycle!"

"I dunno, after we watched Final Destination 2, I noticed you always changed lanes when we were behind one of those logging trucks."

Malik rolled his eyes. "That's called common sense."

Bakura suddenly lunged across Malik's lap, almost spilling their popcorn as he reached for the phone sitting on the table next to them. "Here, I'll find out. This little thing has all the information in the whole world on it." A few minutes of Googling later and Bakura announced, "Yeah, see. It's actually way safer than your motorcycle. Way safer than a car, even."

"I know, Bakura. I'm not worried about it." Malik balanced the bowl in his lap while trying to nudge Bakura back into his own spot.

Instead of moving over, Bakura rolled onto his back so he was looking up at Malik and gave him an exaggerated, saccharine look. "Alright, alright, would it help if I apologized to Death? You know the reason I think rollercoasters look fun is because I enjoy being on your motorcycle so much. It's like we're flying."

Malik couldn't help smiling as he remembered the way Bakura had reacted the first time he'd taken him out on the back of his motorcycle, laughing and whooping and yelling for him to go faster. Afterwards, he'd raved about how much better it was than riding a horse. "Fine, we can think about it. Maybe later this summer. I've never been to an amusement park before either, and I guess it does look like it could be fun."

"Yes!" Bakura pumped his fist and finally sat back up, settling next to Malik on the bean bag again.

Bakura quieted after that, and the popcorn bowl steadily grew emptier as the movie played on. When it was over, Malik was stuck throwing Bakura's empty soda can away as Bakura went off to wash the salt and butter off his hands—even though he'd sucked pretty much every bit of it off his fingers already.

Malik could hear that, as usual, Bakura was running the tap for longer than he really needed to. Bakura still couldn't quite get over running water. Malik had to remind himself that Bakura had only been back for a couple of years, whereas he himself had been out of the tomb for much longer. He'd been pretty amazed by the modern world, himself, when everything was new to him. Of course, Bakura had had some experiences with modern technology when in Ryou's body, but it wasn't really the same thing. Ryou was the one who had taken care of things like eating and bathing, and Bakura had been too focused on his vengeance to enjoy much of anything, not to mention that lacking his own body had made him disconnected from physical experiences.

Malik had to admit, if only to himself, that Bakura's childlike wonder over mundane things always made him want to smile. So he supposed it wouldn't hurt him to indulge it sometimes, even if it did run up his utility bills.

He rinsed his own hands and then walked to the bathroom, coming up behind Bakura and winding his arms around him as he reached around him to turn off the faucet. He put his lips against Bakura's throat. "You know, if you want to play in the water so much, it'd be a better use of it if we just got in the shower."

Bakura leaned back into Malik's embrace. "Mm, you don't have to convince me."

With that, Malik shed his clothes, while Bakura simply dropped his shenti, then removed his glasses and set them on the counter. As soon as the water heated up, the two got into the shower, one after the other.

Malik quickly wet his hair before Bakura could shove him out of the way to hog the spray to himself. Sure enough, once Bakura got in, he pushed Malik aside and stood directly under the shower head. Malik rolled his eyes, but stepped out of the way, content enough to see Bakura's jubilation at what he saw as a warm, indoor rain storm. Malik grabbed one of the shampoo bottles and dumped some of the shampoo onto his head, working it through his hair as he watched Bakura play in the water like a kid, cupping his hands until they were filled and then throwing the water on either himself or Malik.

Malik proceeded to wash his body as Bakura reached up to grab the shower head and direct it towards his own face, luxuriating in the feeling of the hot water on his skin.

A few minutes later Malik stood, soapy and shivering, finally having had enough. "I need to rinse. Move."

Bakura pouted but moved out of the way, letting Malik under the spray to wash the soap off of his body. Malik closed his eyes, tilting his head back under the water and scrubbing his fingers through his hair, rinsing out the suds.

Eyes still closed, he felt Bakura's hands on his chest, his fingers tracing the curves of his muscles and then trailing down to his stomach. But it didn't last long before Bakura was crowding in next to him, trying to get back under the warm water.

Malik sighed and grabbed Bakura by the waist, spinning him around so Malik was facing his back. "You haven't even started washing. You do realize showering actually has a purpose, right? Other than playing in the water?"

Bakura smirked and leaned back against Malik's chest. "I figured if I waited long enough, you'd do it for me."

Malik smiled. "Alright, alright. Just give me a minute." Malik spun them around together so their positions were switched and Malik was out of the spray, then reached into the shower caddy to get his conditioner. He had to push aside Bakura's hoard of shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel, but once he found it, he poured some into his hands and worked it through his locks. "I guess I can do you while this sets."

He picked up the first bottle shampoo again—there were three damn bottles because Bakura kept asking to try new kinds—and squeezed some onto Bakura's head. In his original body, Bakura was about a head shorter than Malik, which made washing his hair an easy task, Bakura's stature putting him in just the right position for Malik to reach his head. Malik took his time to scrub the shampoo through Bakura's white mess of hair, then massaged and scratched his scalp until Bakura hummed in satisfaction. Once finished, he pushed Bakura's head underneath the shower's spray, rinsing until the bubbles were gone.

Then Malik reached for the bar of soap again and lathered his hands. He started at Bakura's shoulders, kneading into his muscles as he spread the soap over his skin, enjoying Bakura's groans of contentment. He worked his way down his back and along his arms, then turned Bakura around again and started on his chest and stomach. His hands travelled down, but skipped over Bakura's hardening cock as he bent to move down to his legs, earning a little sound of protest from Bakura.

Malik stood again, and encircled Bakura's waist with his arms, pulling him near so their bodies were pressed together. Bakura shifted against him, beginning to rock a little against Malik. Malik could feel Bakura's erection stiffening further, and his own cock began to grow hard as he let a hand fall to Bakura's ass. He massaged the cheeks for a few moments, then slid his soapy hand between them. When his slippery fingers skated over Bakura's entrance, Bakura immediately tried to push back onto them, but Malik drew his hand away.

"No, Bakura. You know how impossible it is to fuck in the shower—"

"Tease," Bakura scoffed, reaching behind himself to grab onto Malik's wrist and shove his hand back where he wanted it.

Malik let him, but he held on tighter to Bakura's waist so he couldn't shove back onto his fingers as he resumed washing the area.

"Seriously, Bakura. There's no way to get into a good position, the walls and floor are hard and uncomfortable, and the water washes all the lube away, and we don't even have any lube in here anyways, and I'm sick of you tracking water all over when you realize you forgot something and jump out to—"

"We can just use soap," Bakura cut him off again, his voice tight as he strained against the grip around his waist, trying to press back every time Malik's fingers got near his hole.

"It's not good for you to have soap inside you, and it doesn't work very well anyways." Before Bakura could protest again, Malik leaned down to press a long kiss to his lips. Malik held him more firmly, unable to resist letting one slick finger slowly circle over the sensitive skin of Bakura's entrance, causing Bakura to shiver and let out a small whine.

Malik stroked around the outside of his hole for a few more minutes, holding him fast as he shuddered and tried to buck, until Bakura buried his face in Malik's shoulder and whimpered.

"If you don't make a scene at the doctor's tomorrow, I'll fuck you when we get home from the yogurt place. Deal?"

"Yes, yes," Bakura said, too turned on and desperate to argue.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure you're happy by the time we're done here." With that, Malik let go of Bakura and pushed him backwards, suddenly dropping to his knees and taking Bakura's already-leaking cock all the way into his mouth before Bakura could process what was happening. Bakura let out a loud moan of surprise and pleasure, and Malik began to bob his head.

He honestly found it annoying to do this in the shower. The floor was hard and he knew his knees would end up bruised, and he hated how the water splashed over his face and got into his eyes and his nose and made it hard to breathe with a dick in his mouth. But he knew Bakura liked it, liked being pleasured while the warm water cascaded over his body and the steam rose up around them, so he went on, sucking and licking and swirling his tongue as he slid one hand along Bakura's inner thighs and used the other to cup his balls.

Luckily for Malik, Bakura didn't take very long. A few minutes of swaying his hips and panting, and then with a final thrust he grabbed the back of Malik's head and came down his throat with a cry.

Malik stood up, taking in the sight of Bakura leaning against the wall, muscles weak and breath still hitching, his cheeks colored from arousal and heat.

Bakura collected himself after a few moments, and then pulled Malik to him again, a hand reaching between his legs.

"After we get out, yeah?" Malik said. "The water's starting to get cold."

Bakura nodded, and Malik quickly rinsed the conditioner out of his hair as Bakura swiped some soap over the places on his body Malik hadn't gotten to, and then they jumped out of the shower and grabbed their towels, hurrying to dry themselves so they could race to the bedroom.

Malik lay back on their bed, watching as Bakura crawled over him. Bakura leaned down to give him a slow, deep kiss, then pulled back, proceeding to dot little kisses down his chest and stomach until he reached Malik's still-hard cock.

He teased with his tongue for a bit, holding down Malik's hips as he licked the skin and lapped at the tip instead of taking it into his mouth, giving Malik repayment for what he'd done to him earlier. But finally he wrapped his lips around the head and started slowly moving his mouth over Malik's erection, gradually speeding up until Malik was moaning and calling out Bakura's name.

Malik unthinkingly reached for something to grip onto, and Bakura extended his hand, grabbing Malik's palm in his and squeezing as his other hand left Malik's hip to stroke at the base of his cock.

Bakura's wet mouth slid around Malik's cock faster and faster, until finally Malik's body stiffened, his muscles seizing as he came, yelling Bakura's name one more time.

Bakura swallowed and sat up, then immediately collapsed down beside Malik. Malik let out a happy sigh and pulled him close. They stayed like that, too relaxed and satiated to move.