While Kantarou was quite pleased to be with Haruka finally, no more doubt or uncertainty between them, and though new-coupleness was quite enjoyable overall, he wasn't entirely sure he liked how Haruka seemed to be viewing him as -- well, as the wife.

Haruka raised his chopsticks to Kantarou's lips. "Say ahhh,"Haruka said blandly.

Kantarou blinked at him, lips twisting with distaste. "Haruka," he said. "I'm not sure this --"

Haruka shoved the rice into his mouth. "Good enough," he said. And then, "This is supposed to be the way new couples act, right? That's what Youko said."

Kantarou chewed, swallowed, and made a mental note to have Words with Youko. "Yes, but Haruka," he said. "It's just... well... your rice bowl, uh..."

"What about it?" One of Haruka's eyebrows twitched.

"It's kind of dirty, isn't it?" Kantarou opened his eyes wide, trying to make himself look cute in hopes of surviving Haruka's likely response. "I mean, you haven't washed it recently, have you? I don't know if I wanna be eating from it --"

A look of pure offended anger crossed Haruka's face. "I wash my rice bowl every day," he snapped. "It's important to me, after all."

Kantarou winced. "Yes, well, I don't know where you wash it,"he said. "But, well, it looks like the dirt is almost ground into it, so--"

"There is no dirt in my rice bowl," Haruka said, and drew it towards him somewhat protectively. "Why would you even think that?"

"Well, Haruka," Kantarou said with exaggerated patience, "because I've seen it."

Haruka narrowed his eyes at him, then picked up the half-full rice bowl, holding it to the light. After a moment of turning it from side to side, he lowered it again and said, "There is no dirt on my rice bowl. What are you trying to imply?"

"Er." Kantarou crossed his arms. "That it's dirty, and maybe we should try using one of the regular bowls --"

He jumped when Haruka slammed his bowl down -- not hard enough so that it would be in any danger of cracking, but enough to make the rest of the utensils on the table jump. "... I can't be with you any more."

Kantarou felt his heart drop. "Ehhhhh?"

"See other people," Haruka snapped, flat-voiced. "Because I can't be with someone who insults my rice bowl."

"B-b-but, Haruka!" Kantarou protested, hands flailing as he tried to find where the conversation went wrong. "I wasn't, I just, it's JUST a rice bowl!"

"It's not just a ricebowl to me," Haruka snapped. "It's... It's special. And I was letting you eat out of it. Like couples do. You don't want to, so you obviously don't want to be a couple."

"It's not that at all! Haruka!"

Haruka continued to scowl, his jaw set at a hard angle. "I don't think this is working," he said. "My rice bowl is important to me. I won't throw it away just because you think it's dirty."

"I'm not saying it's dirty," Kantarou wailed. "Just that it's -- ah --"

"Dirty," Haruka put in flatly. "This isn't going to work if you insist on thinking that."

Kantarou drew a slow breath in. "Haruka," he said, with some resignation. "May I see the rice bowl?"

"...I'm not sure," Haruka said suspiciously, but he handed it over anyway.

Kantarou stared down at it, half-full of rice, cracked and, he suspected, with centuries' worth of dirt worn into its surface.

And then he drew a deep breath and ran his tongue around the rim

Across the table, Haruka stiffened and made a small, shocked noise -- which was more than Kantarou had ever heard him make, even during sex. Nervous, he looked up and found Haruka staring at him, mouth hanging open.

"Um," Kantarou said, a bit tenatively. "It's not that it bothers me so much. I was just, you know, trying to make a suggestion. I really wouldn't dream of insulting Haruka's precious rice bowl."

Haruka said nothing, still staring. Kantarou glanced down and tried not to squirm.

"I mean," he went on bravely, "it just seemed to me that WAH!"

It was almost a little insulting, he thought, how happy Haruka seemed to kiss him now. After a moment, though, he gave up on worrying about it overmuch; it was hard to get too offended with Haruka's tongue in his mouth and Haruka's hand drifting across the front of his hakama.

Kantarou gasped for air between kisses, reaching to do the same to Haruka -- hell, any port in a storm, really -- and was drawn up short when Haruka's free hand caught his wrist.

"No," Haruka said.

"Ha -- Haruka?!"

"...Lick my ricebowl again."

Bemused, Kantarou stared at him. "Haruka," he said, "I really think that maybe your fixation on your rice bowl isn't very healthy --"

"Please," Haruka added, through gritted teeth.

... Well, if he put it that way ...

Kantarou reached for the rice bowl again. He was almost self-consciously aware of Haruka's burning gaze as he lifted it to his lips, tracing it very carefully with just the tip of his tongue this time, closing his eyes when he saw Haruka lean closer.

It was, he thought, one of the more interesting requests a lover had ever made of him.

Haruka's hand tightened on him and he gasped, nearly inhaling rice, then took a tentative nibble; while he wasn't entirely sure he could swallow with Haruka doing that, the way it made Haruka growl with utter desire made it worth it.

"Lick the crack," Haruka said.

Kantarou felt his cheeks flush, then mentally shook himself; there was no way that was as dirty as it sounded. Obligingly, he traced out the crack in the ricebowl with his tongue.

"Use your teeth again," Haruka insisted, his voice a low throaty purr that might have been funny, if Kantarou weren't aroused almost in spite of himself. Kantarou drew in a deep breath and let his teeth click against the rim of the bowl again, feeling the sharp edges of the the cracked chip with his tongue. Haruka made another deep noise, his hand slipping into Kantarou's hakama and stroking him with easy confidence.

After a moment, he had to lean his head back in an attempt to breathe, his heart going a mile a minute as he tried to catch his breath -- easier said than done, with the way Haruka wouldn't stop touching him. "Ha-ru-ka," he gasped. "We're, this is the dining room, Youko-chan might --"

"Again," Haruka insisted, his hand moving faster.

It wasn't exactly something he could argue with. He whimpered, letting Haruka press him against the table, and bit at the bowl's rim, his tongue flicking out to pick up a few grains of rice.

Haruka's hand picked up speed. "On the outside too."

Kantarou's breath caught. "Haruuuka, c'mon, the outside is dir--"

"...Kantarou?"

"The outside," Kantarou said weakly, and twisted the bowl in his grip. "Right." Really, a little dirt never hurt anyone. He flicked his tongue out.

Thankfully, it didn't really taste like anything other than slightly skin-warmed ceramic; the only grittiness seemed to come from the edges of the cracked part. Haruka sighed in his ear, shifting against his back, and it was getting harder to focus. After a moment, Kantarou had to stop, leaning his forehead against the cool table, the one hand clutching the bowl shaking. "Haruka," he whimpered. "Haruka --"

Haruka licked his ear. "Don't stop," he murmured thickly. "Kantarou. Don't stop."

Kantarou whimpered. "Have to," he mumbled. "It's too, uh. Too..."

Haruka bit lightly at the lobe. "...please. Please, Kantarou."

Kantarou moaned, arching into Haruka's touch. He was having trouble breathing, and couldn't imagine putting his mouth to the bowl again. "Is there anything else I -- oh."

"Oh?"

Biting his lower lip uneasily, Kantarou tugged his gi open slightly and rubbed the edge of the bowl against his chest, then held his breath as he waited to see how Haruka would respond.

Haruka sighed in his ear again, pleased. "That's good too," he murmured. "Kantarou --"

It was hard to focus on anything else beyond the weight and heat and long line of pressure of Haruka's body against his back, and the smoothness of the bowl he held. Kantarou squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering with each breath, gripping the edge of the table with his free hand.

"Haruka," he groaned, low in his throat, letting his head drop forward. "Haruka --"

He almost surprised himself when he came, jerking hard in the visegrip of Haruka's arms, trapped between his body and the table. His forehead thunked down, the bowl pressed rather uncomfortably between his chest and edge of the table.

Kantarou gasped, dazed, as Haruka twisted him around, licking his sticky fingers with almost possessive desire. He felt dazed, like he couldn't gather himself together enough to respond to the sensual way Haruka moved towards him.

The door slid open. "Kan-chan! Would you believe the seller had to close the stall earl-- KAN-CHAN! HARUKA-CHAN!"

"...Y...Youko-chan," Kantarou whimpered.

"Go away," Haruka said.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO BREAKFAST?"

"Eating," Haruka said, not looking up. "Go away."

Youko stared at the two of them, aghast. Her bag fell limply from her hand to the ground. "AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY TABLE?" she added, her voice high. "I AM NOT CLEANING THAT UP."

"That's fine," Haruka said shortly, nuzzling at Kantarou's hair. "Kantarou will do it."

"Ehhhhh?" Kantarou tried to lift his head, and found it too heavy, and let it thunk down again. "Harukaaaaa, it's your fault anyway ..."

"You drove me to it," Haruka said. "With your bowl-licking."

"I don't care who's responsible!" Youko nearly shrieked, her hands shaking by her face as if she didn't know what to do. "My table! My breakfast! You two, you two--!"

"Youko-chaaaaaaan, don't yeeell," Kantarou whimpered. "It was for a good cause--"

"Get -- TAKE THIS TO THE BEDROOM! GET OUT! GET! OUT!"

"Ehhhhh?" Kantarou rolled his head loosely on his neck; he felt boneless and heavy, his tongue thick in his mouth and his head stuffed with cotton. "Youko-chan, I don't think I can move."

Haruka snorted. "Fine," he said, and shifted. Kantarou felt an arm go around his waist, then yelped as he was lifted, rather unceremoniously and dumped over Haruka's shoulder. "... Thanks for the food, too," Haruka added, almost as afterthought, and strode for the stairs, ignoring Youko's shriek behind them.

"Haruka," Kantarou whined, squirming. "Harukaaaaa, this isn't very comfortable."

"Hush," said Haruka, and put a hand on his back, ostensibly for support. "You have the bowl, right?"

Kantarou blinked, looking down his arms, dangling down Haruka's back. He held the rice bowl very loosely in one. "Yes?"

"Good."