AN: Bakura's POV is always really hard for me to write, which is why this is only the second chapter from his perspective. It's not that I don't know how he's feeling or whatever, it's just very hard to keep the narration in character, if that makes sense. Like he could be in character, but the way I word it makes it seem like he's not? Though lolololol anyone in this fic being in character

The move has been postponed for about another month. Since most of my non-essentials have already been packed up, there's not much to do but wait until we're closer to the move to finish up, so that means I have some free time to write again! Picking this story up after so long is gonna be a challenge, but I've got my outline, so that helps a whole hell of a lot! Hopefully I'll be able to get another update out before the move! I was going to work on the next chapter this weekend, but my coworker gave me the flu. :( I won't be able to write anything for a while. Flu brain = no brain.

The next day, Malik looked tired as he got ready for work. Bakura rested himself on the rod that held the shower curtain, watching absently as the other fixed his hair and applied deodorant. While he did appreciate the sight of Malik's half-naked body, he had other thoughts occupying his mind, and wasn't really paying attention to what was in front of him.

Last night had been…strange. They'd spent a good portion of the night playing that Truth not-Poker game Malik had suggested, and Bakura had found it much more fun than he originally assumed it would be. Of course he was able to ask Malik all sorts of questions, ranging from honest curiosity like his questions about mediums, to sexual things to embarrass the man, with all sorts of things in between. He found Malik's answers far more interesting than he'd bargained for, even the non-sexual ones… That was a little alarming, seeing as he'd never really taken an interest in other people since his family had died. Especially not his mediums.

Meanwhile Malik's questions just confused him. He'd expected far more questions about his feelings and his family, since the medium had stated he'd be using the game to help Bakura cross, but he'd only asked a small handful of questions that related to that. Most were very neutral things, like what Bakura's hobbies had been, or revenge for Bakura's embarrassing sexual questions, like how Bakura lost his virginity. The look on Malik's face when Bakura said his first sexual encounter was a BDSM-style threesome was priceless.

"Go big or go home," he'd said with a shrug, and Malik had laughed. That was another thing that was getting to him today. Malik's laugh. That stupid god damn beautiful laugh. They'd made each other laugh a lot indirectly at first, but as the game went on, Bakura found himself actually trying to get Malik to laugh. He'd tell jokes between hands or exaggerate his answers, all in the hopes of hearing Malik giggle.

What the fuck was up with that?

He didn't know what to think –about any of this, really. He was beyond confused, and starting to get a little pissed off, and the more he thought about it, the more confused and pissed off he got.

"Hey, Bakura." Malik's voice startled him out of his thoughts, and before he could help it, he snapped.

"What?"

Malik just barely flinched at the tone –not much, not enough for the average person to notice. Bakura noticed, and he shrunk in on himself.

"Whoa, what the fuck was that for?"

Bakura didn't understand why he felt bad. He didn't hurt Malik, and when he'd screamed at Malik that one time, he'd laughed once he got over his anger. That just pissed him off more.

Instead of answering, he just looked away and crossed his arms. "What do you want?"

Malik frowned, looking just as confused as Bakura felt. Maybe after all their bonding last night, he expected Bakura to be friendlier to him. "Well, I was going to ask you if you wanted to come to work with me again today, but if you're gonna be in a pissy mood, you can just stay home."

Bakura scoffed. "I don't want to go to work with you anyway."

"Oh? You literally begged to come last time."

"Yeah, well, last time I didn't know it was more boring that this dump. At least this place has cable." Thank god he wasn't forced to tell the whole truth. Malik's workplace was boring, but the main reason he didn't want to go was so he could avoid Malik. He needed to think, and Malik's presence would hinder that.

Malik's frown got deeper for a moment, but then he shrugged. "Whatever. Have fun watching daytime television, I guess. Don't break anything or touch anyone's stuff."

"Yeah, yeah."

Malik left the bathroom without another word, but Bakura stayed perched on the curtain rod until he heard the motor of Malik's bike fade away. He knew he was alone then, and he sighed and flopped down on Malik's bed. His intangible body slipped through the bedding, and he took a second to focus his mass and lay himself down properly on the mattress. He wished he could just lie down and sleep and forget about confusing feelings, but his body no longer required rest, or food, or air, so he could no longer sleep, or eat, or breathe. Not even recreationally. He remembered how to, sometimes the act of breathing was second nature and involuntary, and he could fake it all pretty well, but there was no benefit.

Bakura closed his eyes, buried his face in Malik's pillow, and pretended to breathe in. He wondered what the human smelled like… He used coconut shampoo and pomegranate body wash; his deodorant was cypress, lavender, and grapefruit; his cologne a non-descript mix of floral, fruity, and woodsy scents; and the laundry detergent the family used was labeled as seaside breeze and fresh cotton. He only knew that from the hours he'd spent snooping around the house while bored out of his skull, but now he tried to remember what all those things smelled like and combine them in his head. In the end he couldn't, but concluded Malik must smell very nice indeed.

He sat up, stacking the pillows behind him and leaning against them. He'd stayed home because he wanted to think about all the odd feelings he had surrounding Malik, but now that he was alone, the last thing he wanted to do was think. Everything was confusing, and frustrating, and even a little scary and he didn't know how to deal with any of it. It was almost like he was starting to care for the brat… But how could that be, when he'd spent so long feeling nothing towards anyone? None of his other mediums had made him crack. Maybe it was just because Malik was so good looking, and making him angry or embarrassed was too much fun. Bakura had let his guard down around him, and the medium had begun weaseling his way into Bakura's heart.

But he couldn't have that. He wouldn't give Malik the satisfaction of making him cross over. Something had to be done to put a halt on their budding friendship.

And he was pretty sure he had a solution…

When Malik returned home, Bakura greeted him at the door with a 'Hello' and a grin. Malik studied him for a moment before huffing out a small laugh.

"Looks like you've calmed down from your morning mood swing," he said, removing his coat and shoes. Bakura opened his mouth to respond with something snarky, but he stopped when he realized how frazzled Malik looked. He'd looked tired this morning, but now he just looked exhausted. There were bags under his eyes, his skin looked sticky with sweat, and his hair was falling out of the tight bun he'd pulled it into this morning. Even his uniform –a nice polo and slacks- looked crumbled and sloppy.

"You look like you've been run over by a semi," Bakura joked, looking him up and down.

Malik let out another huff of a laugh, just dropping his coat on the floor, too tired to hang it up. "I feel like it, too."

"What happened?"

Malik motioned for Bakura to follow, so he did once Malik started walking. As he moved, he began removing his belt and shirt. Bakura's heart jumped to the back of his throat.

"We were fucking slammed today," Malik explained, rolling his shoulders and dropping his shirt. He entered the bathroom and Bakura relaxed a little. "We average about a hundred customers a day, and usually Mazaki and I can handle that easily. But I guess there's some kind of convention in town today, because we had almost three hundred in. We had to call in the rest of the staff to deal with them all. And you've seen how small the kitchen is. It can't cook more than fifteen orders at once, maybe twenty if we're lucky. Add two more cooks to the mix who've never worked together before, and we were running out of shit right and left and…" Malik's words trailed off into frustrated gibberish. "Oh, and of course I got yelled at for the shortages, even though Keith was in charge of ordering this week. That lazy piece of shit didn't even put in an order. But did Mr. Ando take that into account and fire Keith? Of course not, because obviously I'm at fault for everything that goes wrong even though I'm not even allowed to make orders. How the fuck is the shortage my fault?!"

Malik's voice rose the more he ranted, and the more he ranted, the angrier he got. Bakura stayed silent, just letting him blow off steam, and when he finally stopped talking, Bakura just whistled. "Sounds like you need to quit."

Malik shook his head. "I don't want to quit. I like it there. It pays well, and I like working with everyone. That fuck head Keith and Mr. Ando are the only downsides."

"Well what the fuck do you want me to say, Malik? 'I'm sorry your job sucks, here's a cookie and a blowjob to make it all better'? I'm not good at this kind of thing."

The way Malik looked at him then made Bakura uncomfortable. He didn't look mad, just contemplative, but it was still unsettling. After a moment he looked away and continued undressing. "You asked me what happened, so I told you," he said calmly. "I never asked you for cookies, a blowjob, or advice. I'm shocked you actually listened in the first place."

"Yeah, well…" Bakura didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. Malik didn't press further, and they lapsed into silence.

Once Malik was down to his boxers, he began filling the tub. Bakura returned to watching him absently, just like this morning, this time sitting on the edge of the sink. Malik turned the water off once the tub was mostly full, and then took an amber bottle out from the cupboard and added ten drops of what looked like oil to the water. He stirred it around and whispered, 'Into this water the power I send, stress shall unwind, wounds shall mend." Then he lit a blue candle –also procured from the cupboard- and set it on the edge of the tub. After all that, he finally dropped his drawers and got into the tub.

Bakura raised an eyebrow, cocking his head as he watched Malik relax into the water. "What was that about?"

Malik looked up at him, eyes lidded and skin taking on a warmer tone from the heat of the water. The image was a little suggestive, and Bakura wondered if he'd be blushing if he could still blush. "Something my brother taught me to do when I'm really stressed. I think it's a relaxation spell. I don't know. It works, though."

Bakura snorted. "A spell to relax you? Hell, an orgasm would do that twice as well as any oil and candles could."

"Maybe, but I told you I never masturbate when I have an assignment."

"Yeah, but you did say I could watch, remember?"

"I don't recall ever saying that."

"Well, you did. Can't take it back now."

"Hmm…" Malik closed his eyes, dropping further into the hot water. "Not in the mood to give you a show tonight."

Bakura saw his chance and took it. "I could give you an orgasm."

The silence that followed was heavy and pregnant. For at least a full minute, the only sound in the room was the subtle splashing in the tub, the tiny sputters from the candle flame, and every so often, Malik breathing. Bakura regretted saying anything, knowing his plan was farfetched; when he'd been alive, sex was abundant, easy to come by, and far better than friendship or romance. He had never been tempted to seek out a more meaningful relationship –platonic or otherwise- with any of his sexual partners. And he was well aware Malik was attracted to him. He'd felt it through their bond, but had also caught Malik checking him out before. He'd hoped if he could turn his and Malik's relationship sexual, it would kill these budding feelings at the root.

But as the silence stretched on, he knew he'd fumbled his roll.

"How do you intend to do that when we can't touch each other?"

It had been so quiet before, Malik's voice almost sounded like shouting in the tiny bedroom. Bakura looked up, seeing Malik had tipped his head back far enough to look right at Bakura. Their eyes met, and Bakura suddenly felt nervous.

"Uh, last night… You mentioned you had toys, so… I won't have to touch you to make you cum."

Malik chuckled softly, lifting his head again and slipping deeper into the tub. When he didn't respond right away, Bakura assumed that was it, and they wouldn't speak of it anymore. But then Malik sat up again. "Almost sounds like a bad pick up line. 'Hey baby, I won't have to touch you to make you cum'."

Bakura smirked, finding the humor in it as well. "Kind of. …So what do you say? Wanna come back to my place?"

"Hmm…" Malik sighed, slowly lifting a leg out of the water. Bakura watched as the water, extra shimmery from the oil, ran off Malik's tawny skin. "I suppose we can try."

Bakura nearly fell off the sink in shock. "R-really?"

"Yeah." Malik smirked and slipped into the water until his head was submerged. When he reemerged, he brushed his hair from his face and glanced back at Bakura. "But after my bath."