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Haruka tries to be tolerant of the way Muu-chan clings to Kantarou, the way Kantarou lets her. Sugino's tantrums over it are ridiculous, far beneath the dignity of a Tengu. Haruka tells himself they're the remnants of Sugino's human origins, and does not growl when Muu-chan throws herself at Kantarou yet again.
He's rather proud of his control, which is why it's a little startling when Youko corners him and says, "You're not fooling anyone, you know."
She's caught him on his way to his room, where he's planning to shine his collection of red glass trinkets until Muu-chan leaves. He's not entirely sure what she's talking about, so he asks. "What are you talking about?"
"You always get so grumpy when Muu-chan comes to visit. You know she's trying to make you jealous, right?"
Haruka scowls, and now he growls. "What?"
Youko looks unimpressed. "Muu-chan likes Kantarou," she explains slowly. "She wants him to have someone. She's picked you."
"Why would she--" Haruka cuts himself off as another thought occurs to him. "Does Kantarou know?"
"You want me to guess what goes through his head?" Youko snorts in annoyance. "Anyway, does it matter?"
Haruka thinks about that and realizes it doesn't. For whatever reason, Kantarou lets Muu-chan get away with her little game, and if Haruka wants it to stop, he's going to have to take steps.
Big steps, because Kantarou likes to pretend he doesn't catch subtlety.
Haruka turns in the hall, heads back for the porch where he left Kantarou and Muu-chan. He can hear Kantarou's laughter and Muu-chan's sing-song voice as he approaches, which only makes him grumpier. Kantarou is such a frivolous master sometimes, far, far more trouble than he's worth. Still, he's Haruka's master, and it's time Haruka demonstrated that he chose that, as surely as Kantarou chose his name.
He slides aside the shoji to see Kantarou sprawled on the porch and Muu-chan sprawled on Kantarou's chest. Kantarou's wiping his eyes with one ink-stained hand, the other resting on Muu-chan's back.
"I can just imagine the look on Sugino-sama's face!" Kantarou exclaims through the chuckles, and Muu-chan's answer sounds supremely satisfied. Almost smug. "I can't believe you--oh, Haruka! Muu-chan just told the funniest--"
"I think it's time for Muu-chan to go home," Haruka says with all the cold arrogance he can muster. Which Kantarou and Youko have both told him is quite a lot.
Kantarou blinks and frowns. "What? Haruka, that's not ni--"
"Muu?" Muu-chan's tone is challenging, and she's now sitting up on Kantarou, facing Haruka directly, the look in her eyes saying she's not going anywhere unless Haruka gives her a very good reason. And her husband worrying about her doesn't count.
Haruka tries appealing to the more moveable of the two. "I need to speak with you, Kantarou."
"Oh." Kantarou lifts his hands to keep Muu-chan from falling as he sits up. "You don't mind, do you, Muu-chan?"
Muu-chan's silent a long moment, still watching Haruka. Then she finally nods her head. "Muu."
Haruka knows it's conditional acquiescence. She's giving him time to act, but she'll be back to make sure he has. He doesn't want to imagine what she'll do if he hasn't. She's devious, he's certain, in ways Kantarou can only dream.
She proves it by twisting in Kantarou's arms, then reaching out to press herself against him once more when he obligingly turns her around. He smiles tenderly down at her, and once more Haruka has to remind himself that he will not growl. He won't give her that satisfaction.
At last Kantarou sets her down and says, "Goodbye, Muu-chan."
"Muu!" she trills in return, then turns and trundles her way out of the garden. Haruka doesn't know how she'll make her way home without Sugino to fly her, but then, it's likely only a matter of time before Sugino finds her. It's amazing he hasn't yet.
"Shall we have some tea while we talk?" Kantarou steps toward the shoji, as if to call to Youko inside. Haruka intercepts him quickly, one arm across the opening. He's not quite sure how to approach this, but he's certain he doesn't want Youko as a witness.
"No."
Kantarou tilts his head, mischief in his eyes. "Sake, then? Ah, Haruka, not so early--"
"No."
Kantarou shrugs, good-natured in the face of Haruka's shortness, which only makes him more irritable. He used to wonder if Kantarou did it on purpose, as a way to aggravate him. Now he knows it's just that Kantarou has no sense of self-preservation.
Kantarou turns away. "Shall we sit--"
Haruka catches at Kantarou's wrist, the one not adorned with bells. It's small in his grip, thin, but not as fragile as he'd assumed humans to be. Kantarou is much stronger than he looks.
Not as strong as Haruka, though. Haruka must remember that, or Muu-chan and Youko both will make him miserable for it.
Kantarou's still in his hold, looking up at him with eyes that catch the sun, red and deceptively clear. "Haruka?"
Deceptively clear, but the depths are part of the interest. None of his collection can match those depths. Haruka bends closer to see them better, then decides, while he's down there, to try a kiss.
Kantarou makes a startled sound when their mouths meet, but he doesn't pull away. Which isn't really proof of anything, considering what else Kantarou doesn't pull away from, but if that lack of self-preservation will finally work to his advantage, Haruka's not above using it. He raises his free hand to place it at the nape of Kantarou's neck, and Kantarou's hair brushes over the backs of his knuckles, thick and wiry. Kantarou shifts, and Haruka feels a hand in his hair, feels the sun-warmed metal of the bells brush his ear, then Kantarou's sun-warmed skin.
That makes him want to growl in an entirely different way, and there's no reason not to, this time.
Kantarou answers with another sound, and Haruka identifies it as stifled laughter just before Kantarou opens his mouth to let it out. Haruka doesn't like being laughed at, but catching Kantarou's bottom lip warningly in his teeth seems a reasonable response, and changes the laughter to a soft, surprised moan. Much better.
Sudden voices from the street remind Haruka abruptly that they're outside. Much as he wants to hear what other noises Kantarou will make against his mouth, into it, he wants to hear them somewhere no one else will. He wants to take Kantarou up amidst his collection, see red light bouncing off white hair, pale, bared skin. Wants to see the red light of Kantarou's eyes hungry on his own skin.
He pulls away, as much as he can with Kantarou's hand gripping his hair, and Kantarou immediately protests. "Haruka--"
"Inside," and he reaches up to loosen Kantarou's fingers, straightening and keeping hold of them as he draws Kantarou into the house. Kantarou follows willingly enough, gratifyingly silent for a few seconds.
Then they reach the stairs, and Kantarou tugs on Haruka's hold. "Haruka, do you remember ever...ah...?"
Haruka turns around to see Kantarou's skin reddening in a blush; it does and doesn't look like the times he's been flushed with annoyance, and Haruka wants to be the only one who sees that subtle difference. He pulls Kantarou closer, presses his cheek to Kantarou's to feel the warmth of the bloodflow.
To hear Kantarou whisper, "Haruka...."
"I don't remember, but don't you want to tell me what to do, Kantarou?"
Kantarou sucks in a noisy breath, and Haruka smiles at the rise of heat against his skin. He's using techniques Youko taught him, but this is no distant, studied manipulation; what he's promising Kantarou with body and tone, he'll give.
And take.
Kantarou recovers himself enough to stammer out, "There's something in my room we'll need."
Haruka straightens up and turns them around, leading the way toward Kantarou's room.
"Haruka," Kantarou says, sounding amused and entirely too recovered from Haruka's little ploy, "are you going to let me tell you what to do?"
Haruka turns his head to look back over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Kantarou's smile. "You said we needed something in your room. So we're going to your room."
Kantarou opens his mouth, then closes it again, shaking his head and still smiling. "Yes, Haruka."
They arrive at Kantarou's room, and Haruka decides Kantarou's entirely too complacent about this entire situation. So, much as he wants Kantarou surrounded by little reflections of those eyes, he decides that can wait for the next time. Kantarou's room will do for now.
He lets go of Kantarou, and turns to slide the shoji shut. He turns back to see Kantarou looking acceptably nonplussed. "Haruka--"
"What do we need?" he asks, stepping closer to Kantarou and bending down once more, this time to breathe in Kantarou's scent. He'd like to taste again, but he knows Kantarou would eventually insist on pulling away to answer the question.
"Oh! It's--" Kantarou turns away to open a drawer in a small table, and pull out a jar. He shrugs as he holds it up. "I've found it useful."
Haruka steps close again, reaching out to begin untying Kantarou's obi. He can smell Muu-chan faintly, rising from Kantarou's clothes. He wants them off. "You'll have to show me how to use it."
"We don't need it yet." Kantarou drops the jar on his bedroll, then reaches up to begin unbuttoning Haruka's shirt.
Haruka lets him, getting the obi undone and Kantarou's kimono opened enough to expose Kantarou's collarbones. Haruka leans in to run his tongue along the line of one, and Kantarou's hands jerk at his shirt, clenching in the fabric. Haruka pushes the kimono off Kantarou's shoulders, down to his elbows.
"Let me take this off you," he says, and Kantarou laughs breathlessly.
"I thought I was supposed to be the one giving orders."
"Kantarou." Growling doesn't seem to be doing him any good, so Haruka bites down warningly.
That only makes Kantarou grip his shirt tighter, shaking violently. Haruka looks up in annoyance to see Kantarou biting his lip. The annoyance evaporates. Haruka takes hold of his own shirt, and yanks.
"Haruka!" Kantarou gasps as buttons go flying, but Haruka only shrugs, tugging Kantarou's sleeves down his arms and off, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling at the hakama.
"Youko will sew them back on."
"What if she wants to know how they came off?"
"We'll tell her you ravaged me."
"Haruk-ah!"
He carries Kantarou down to the bedroll, and as he strips away Kantarou's clothes, he inhales, pleased to note no taint of Muu-chan on Kantarou's skin. He presses closer again, just to get the full effect.
"Haruka," Kantarou pants, writhing against him, then reaching up to unfasten his trousers.
"Kantarou," he murmurs against Kantarou's throat, and he likes the way Kantarou reacts, arching up into his touch, his mouth, so he says it again. "Kantarou."
Kantarou jerks his trousers open, reaches inside to cup his cock. "Will you ravage me? Will you, Ha--" Kantarou bites his lip again.
Haruka flexes into Kantarou's hold and says, "If you tell me to."
Kantarou closes his eyes, keeps his teeth in his lip, shakes his head. He's going to make himself bleed like that, so Haruka bends down, presses his fingers against Kantarou's mouth, coaxes it open for another kiss. When he pulls away, Kantarou's panting and looking a little desperate.
"I don't want to tell you." Kantarou puts both hands on Haruka's shoulders, and Haruka scowls at the loss of warm, callused skin against his cock. "I want what you want, Haruka. I want--"
Haruka takes Kantarou by the wrist, puts that hand back where it was. "I want that right here."
Kantarou curls his fingers, stroking. "Yes."
Haruka bends down, cups his own hand over Kantarou's cock as he puts his mouth to Kantarou's ear. "I want this."
Kantarou pushes against his touch. "Yes. Haruka...."
Haruka moves his hand under Kantarou's cock, between Kantarou's thighs, back, until his fingertips brush where the skin separates. "I want this. You're going to have to tell me how to get it."
"That's what the jar's for," Kantarou gasps, pressing down into the cup of Haruka's hand. He drops his hand from Haruka's shoulder and fumbles for the jar, holds it up. "It's an ointment, to make things...easier."
Haruka takes the jar, and Kantarou whines at the loss of Haruka's touch, but one of them has to open it, and one of Kantarou's hands is occupied. In fact, Haruka has to pause in working loose the top to halt Kantarou's purposeful rhythm on his flesh, because he can't focus on anything else when Kantarou's fingers are moving like that.
"Haruka," Kantarou protests, and Haruka leans down to kiss him again, so that he can't issue any commands that might distract Haruka from getting that jar open, then reaching inside.
What's inside is a thick liquid, strongly scented with herbs. Haruka rubs at it on his fingertips, and realizes he doesn't need Kantarou to tell him how it will help. A certain amount of friction is necessary, but humans are fragile. This should make up the difference.
He keeps kissing Kantarou as he coats his fingers with the liquid, then reaches between Kantarou's thighs again to experimentally press one fingertip inside. Kantarou makes a choking sound into his mouth and squeezes his cock a little harder. Oh. Haruka presses in a bit more, just so Kantarou will do that again.
Kantarou does, and says something muffled that might be, "Haruka, please...."
He slides one finger all the way inside, and has to pause to lift Kantarou's hand away from his cock, because the feel of Kantarou close all around him in both locations pushes him too close to the edge, and he knows exactly what he wants now. He presses Kantarou's wrist to the bedroll, and when he feels Kantarou brush his cock with the other hand, he pulls away long enough to growl, "Don't."
Kantarou raises that hand to tangle it in his hair, and arches, twisting so that Haruka's finger moves inside. "Haruka--" Kantarou cuts himself off, pulling Haruka down for another kiss, and Haruka thinks now's a good time to try adding a finger.
Kantarou likes that, throwing back his head and panting. Haruka takes the opportunity to taste Kantarou's skin again, and Kantarou's hand slides from his hair to his face, back to his neck, settling there, the fingers stroking restlessly.
"Is it too much?" Haruka asks against Kantarou's shoulder, and Kantarou shakes his head convulsively.
"No, it's just right. Haruka...."
"Kantarou," and Haruka pulls out his fingers, frees Kantarou's wrist to gather Kantarou up, lift Kantarou onto his knees, brace him with one arm and lower him down.
Kantarou sucks in a breath, flinching, and Haruka pauses, just barely inside. "Kantarou?"
"A moment, please," Kantarou says, then musters a smile. "The jar...."
Haruka pulls out --gently-- and holds Kantarou steady as he reaches out for the jar again. He scoops up a generous amount of the liquid, then applies it to himself with swift, rough strokes. "Haruka, be careful," Kantarou murmurs, but there's no command in it, and Haruka knows his own limits. It's Kantarou's that concern him.
When he's satisfied, he takes Kantarou's hand, guides it carefully to touch his cock, just enough to test the slickness. "Is that good?"
He sees the mischief spark in Kantarou's eyes, and pulls the hand away again just before Kantarou tries to squeeze. He expects Kantarou to pout, but Kantarou only smiles and says, "It's good."
It's just a small shift in position to re-align, and then he's pushing up into Kantarou once more. He takes it very slowly and very gently. Too slowly for Kantarou's tastes; Kantarou puts his hands on Haruka's shoulders and tries to pull himself down faster.
"Haruka--"
"Hush." Haruka holds Kantarou's hip, controlling the pace. "This is what I want."
That makes Kantarou smile again, eyes soft and rich in the dim light of this room. "All right, Haruka."
He doesn't fight Haruka's pace after that, even when Haruka lets go of his hip in favor of wrapping fingers around his cock, pumping it in slow counterpoint to the movement of their hips. He does pull Haruka in for another kiss, and Haruka can tell by the hunger of Kantarou's mouth, the tension in his hands in Haruka's hair, that the slowness is testing him. Good. Haruka wants to test Kantarou, wants to brand this time into him, down where no one else can reach. Down where he'll never forget.
It can only last so long, of course. Even tengu endurance has its breaking point, and when Kantarou shudders around him, coming into his fist, Haruka feels his own control fraying. He does his best not to push Kantarou too hard, but his hips snap once, twice, and then he spills inside Kantarou, hot and slick.
Where no one else can reach.
Kantarou is limp in his arms, against his chest, only moaning a little when Haruka lifts him up in order to slide free. Haruka makes a face at the mess, but carefully sets Kantarou down on the bedroll again. Kantarou stays there, eyes closed, face blissful, and Haruka finds himself strangely loath to disturb that mood by complaining about the need to clean up. Kantarou's basin and pitcher are on their stand; there's a little water in the pitcher when Haruka checks it, enough to pour over his hand to clean it off a little, enough to wet the towel next to the stand and clean his cock.
He turns around with the towel in hand to find Kantarou watching him, and at that angle, Kantarou's eyes reflect the light diffused through the window. It's not quite enough to make them as brilliantly red as Haruka's collection, but it's enough to highlight the depth.
Haruka takes the excuse to come closer again, and explore.