Mutuality

There was a trick to opening the bottles. Haruka watched sometimes. A swift thrust then a speedy withdrawal. He’d seen Kantarou do it. It looked easy enough. So when Kantarou handed him a bottle with the most innocent of smiles and the plug, Haruka shrugged and set it down on the wooden veranda between his crossed legs. In retrospect, he should have known really. Kantarou’s eyes were practically glowing with impish glee. But he just shook his head, resigned to the fact that his master was a mad man, and balanced the plug on top of the ball.

“I don’t know why you couldn’t just have done this yourself,” Haruka said grumpily. Kantarou grinned widely back at him.

“I wanted to see if you could do it,” he announced, leaning forward a little to rest his face in one hand. A challenge. Haruka snorted.

“It can’t be difficult if you can do it.” Kantarou giggled.

“So you say...” And there was that infuriating look again. The “I Know Something You Don’t” look which Kantarou often wore when he was talking to Hasumi or lecturing them about some demon or other. Haruka paused, the look making him wonder if he should reconsider. But he ignored it in favour of pride. In hindsight of course, opening bottles was a ridiculous thing to get competitive over, but Kantarou always seemed to just know how to make him do stupid things.

So Haruka placed both thumbs on the plug and pushed down. It was tougher than it looked, so Haruka pressed down with more force and a second later he felt the ball give. There was a hissing sound, the plug pushed to the hilt, and suddenly clear, fizzy liquid was spurting everywhere. Haruka growled and pulled the plug away as quickly as possible, but the liquid continued to fizz over the sides of the bottle. Looking down, Haruka could see that the drink had splashed onto his trousers, and he could feel wet patches over the front of his shirt. It was then that he noticed Kantarou laughing.

“You bastard,” Haruka snarled. He looked up at Kantarou. “You did that on purpose. You shook the bottle, didn’t you?” Kantarou, arms wrapped around himself as though he was going to burst from laughing, calmed his giggling fit and looked at Haruka innocently.

“I would never do such a thing, Haruka!” he declared, trying his best to sound affronted even though he was still giggling. “There’s a trick to it, that’s all.”

“I don’t believe you,” Haruka grumbled, trying to shake the liquid off his hands, which was quickly drying in the summer heat and turning sticky and uncomfortable on his skin. Kantarou pouted in a not-so-mature way and picked up the small towel the second bottle sat on.

“Now, now, Haruka,” he said, shuffling towards the tengu on his knees, towel clutched tightly in his hand. “There’s no point crying over spilt ramune.” Kantarou stopped close to Haruka and took the bottle from between Haruka’s still-crossed legs, placing it to one side.

“I’m not crying,” Haruka stated, eyeing Kantarou suspiciously. Kantarou just grinned at him then leaned forward, dabbing the wet patches on his trouser legs.

“What are you doing?” Haruka demanded, watching with some not-small-amount of discomfort as Kantarou worked the towel progressively further up his leg.

“It’s uncomfortable isn’t it? So I’m just drying you off a bit.”

“I can do that myself. Give that here.” Haruka made a half-hearted grab for the towel, which Kantarou pulled quickly away and sat back, frowning at the tengu.

“Mou, Haruka,” he complained. “You’re no fun at all. Anyway, it’s my towel.”

“It’s my leg,” Haruka retorted.

“But I paid for the trousers.”

“With money that I helped you earn.”

“But I’m…”

“Stop it,” Haruka interrupted. “Just give me the towel,” he asked, and held out his hand. Kantarou folded his arms and pouted.

“No,” he said defiantly, then cast Haruka a smug look. “Make me.” Haruka shook his head.

“Why must you always be so difficult?” he groaned. “Just give me the damn towel. These trousers are uncomfortable…” Haruka flinched at Kantarou’s grin.

“You see! I was right!” Kantarou sat for a moment as though deep in thought, and Haruka wondered whether this might not be a good time to make a hasty retreat to his room. Or perhaps to another city. His thoughts were all too late though, as Kantarou waved a teasing finger at him. “Seeing as I won’t give you the towel, and you won’t let me help you, I suppose there’s nothing else to be done…” Kantarou was almost purring. Never a good sign, Haruka thought as he leaned back slightly in the face of Kantarou’s increasing proximity. Then with an intolerably innocent grin and with greater speed than any human should possess, Kantarou’s slim hands were on Haruka’s belt buckle.

“We’ll just have to take them off,” he grinned. Haruka knew he was turning a rather fetching shade of red, he just couldn’t tell if it was because he was so angry or because Kantarou…had…his hands…there…

“Get off me!” Haruka cried in a voice that was far too high for him. He tried batting the invading hands away.

“Aww don’t be shy, Haruka. I’m just helping you,” Kantarou teased, deftly avoiding Haruka’s swats. If it was anyone else but his useless master, Haruka thought, he would have blasted them through the wall with his lightening by now. By this time, Kantarou had somehow managed to get Haruka’s trousers undone and was now grasping the waist.

“Now let me take your trousers off for you, Ha-ru-ka,” he sang, emphasizing the name for everything it was worth. Haruka growled.

“Don’t use my name for things like that!” Kantarou laughed, and nimbly pulled down the trousers, causing Haruka to fall unceremoniously onto his back.

“I told you,” he said, pulling them the rest of the way from Haruka’s now out-stretched legs. “I’m helping you!” Kantarou threw the trousers away thoughtlessly, and moved closer to sit between Haruka’s legs as the tengu sat himself back up.

“Now,” he grinned. “What about this shirt?” He placed a hand heavily on Haruka’s chest and began eyeing the buttons. Haruka had had enough.

“Kantarou,” he said, taking hold of Kantarou’s wrist and looking the man challengingly in the eyes. He waited for his master to look up at him before he continued.

“I think you just sat in the drink,” he sneered.

“Eh?” Kantarou cried and made to stand up, but Haruka held him fast.

“By your logic, shouldn’t we remove your hakama?” he continued, and was gratified to see Kantarou looking slightly flustered. And there was a definite pink flush spreading across his face.

“Well… but…” Kantarou stammered, fidgeting restlessly. The man certainly didn’t like not being in control, Haruka concluded. That realization gave him further inspiration. He leaned closer to Kantarou and let his free hand wander down to the front bow of his hakama.

“I don’t see why you’re complaining, Kantarou,” Haruka spoke softly, in a tone similar to the way Youko had taught him attracted women. Strange that it should make Kantarou develop an even deeper blush now. “You seemed to enjoy removing clothes a minute ago.”

“Well, yes,” Kantarou said, regaining a measure of composure. He looked down at Haruka’s bare knee beside him. “But you have better legs than me.” Haruka stared at Kantarou for a moment, dumbfounded, then shook his head.

“You’re crazy. But you’re not going to stop me.” Still holding Kantarou’s gaze, Haruka slowly began to untie the bow. Kantarou frowned.

“I can stop you, Ha-ru-hmphh…” Haruka clapped his free hand over Kantarou’s mouth and pushed the human back against the wooden floor.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You’re always saying we should be “friends”, so that means equals, doesn’t it?” Haruka loomed over Kantarou, deadly serious eyes boring into the other’s, hand resting firmly on Kantarou’s hip. Kantarou took Haruka’s hand from his mouth.

“I do think that, Haruka,” he said. “But I…”

“Good,” Haruka interrupted, then with both hands unceremoniously stripped Kantarou of his hakama.

“Ha…HARUKA!” Kantarou made to retrieve his clothes, but Haruka held onto his wrists firmly, wondering why all of a sudden he was so intent on not letting his master go.

“Haruka, I think you’ve been acquiring some rather bad personality traits,” Kantarou pouted.

“If I have it’s only your fault.” They stayed that way for a moment; eyes locked together, bodies close and tense, and not for the first time Haruka wondered just what it was that lay between them. Apart from his hand. On Kantarou. And Kantarou was looking at him oddly, as though for once in the annoying man’s life he didn’t know what to say. Just for once he was laying there in silence, looking back at Haruka as though he didn’t know what to do.

“What’s that look for?” Haruka asked. Kantarou looked thoughtful for a moment before throwing Haruka a wide grin.

“I was just wondering if you were ever going to let go of me,” he said. Haruka’s hand tightened around Kantarou’s wrist.

“No,” was Haruka’s reply, soft yet unyielding.

“No?”

“I won’t let you go.” There was silence then and Kantarou wondered when this game had become so serious. Wasn’t he the one who usually said things like that? “I won’t break the name contract”, “I want you to be here with me”, “I won’t let you go”, he would say and Haruka would look at him with that bored, unimpressed look he often wore and say nothing in return.

Kantarou sighed dramatically and met Haruka’s intense glare, imagining that he saw something more wild, something more primal, tengu-like even, there. It scared him, and he found himself wondering if this might be a good time to order Haruka to let him go.

“But you’re still Haruka,” Kantarou muttered to himself. Haruka heard and loosened his grip.

“You’re afraid of me,” he said. Haruka’s voice was strange; strained and perhaps even a little disappointed. Kantarou smiled warmly.

“I am sometimes. But I think you are afraid of me too.” Haruka raised an eyebrow and finally let Kantarou go, shifting back and crossing his arms in irritation.

“I am not afraid of you,” he declared, and looked away. Kantarou giggled lightly and sat himself upright.

“Then why are you looking away now?” Kantarou shuffled closer. “And why do you not like it when I get too close to you?” And then Haruka was glaring at him again.

“Because you’re... crazy.” Kantarou laughed at that, and continued slowly closing the distance between himself and the tengu.

“You always do... weird things... to me,” Haruka tried. But Haruka was watching him. Haruka was looking at him; leaning gradually closer, legs bare and kimono hanging dangerously loose. Haruka was looking at him and there was some undefined look in his eyes that should have made Kantarou blush, but rather made him smile. Haruka shook his head as though to clear it.

“I liked you better when you were...” Haruka began, then stopped, wondering what exactly he meant to say. When I had you pinned to the floor? When you were under me? When I wouldn’t let you go? And he’d just accused Kantarou of trying to do weird things to him! But from the amusement in Kantarou’s eyes, Haruka could tell the man knew exactly what he’d been thinking anyway.

“Is that so?” Kantarou said, and there was mischief in his voice. And this was certainly not the way Haruka had seen his day progressing when he had got up that morning. Just imagine, he thought, if Youko or Sugino decided now was a good time to say hello. They were half naked and Kantarou looked... almost... wanton...

“Stop that,” Haruka demanded, thinking he really should get up, leave, fly off, do something to end this... game. Kantarou was close now. Not moving anymore. Just sitting with his legs crossed and his hands resting in his lap. A peace offering. An invitation. An offer of friendship which Haruka wasn’t sure he could refuse even if he wanted to.

“Stop what?” Kantarou asked, practically exuding an innocence Haruka knew the man had probably never actually processed.

“That look...” He could blame Kantarou for this. Him and his stupid games and bottles of fizzy drinks and looks, and then there was the matter of his bare legs... “Stop it!” he demanded again, and found himself taking Kantarou’s wrists into his hands again. Kantarou was looking at him. There were questions there, and probably answers too, and Kantarou was looking at him with those glass-red eyes of his and there was desire there. Haruka knew it well, had tasted it himself long ago in times he thought he’d forgotten about. He wondered if the same look burned in his own eyes.

Kantarou’s lips placed suddenly, lightly, questioningly, on his own gave him his answer. Their warmth was gone so quickly Haruka wondered if it had actually happened, or if it had just been a figment of his imagination. The thought bothered him; the Oni-eating tengu fantasizing about kissing his master! It was enough to make even him laugh. But he had, before, maybe. In his most secreted of thoughts when he glanced sideways at Kantarou and saw eyes like the marbles he loved so much and skin softer than any woman’s.

“I just wondered,” Kantarou began, and he tried to move his hands to the tengu’s face but Haruka held him still. Kantarou was smiling. “I just thought...”

Haruka cut him off with a kiss so forceful it toppled Kantarou onto his back again, his eyes wide with something between disbelief and shock. Well, the Oni-eating tengu was never one to do things by half, so he pressed himself to his so-called master and made sure he had familiarized himself with every part of Kantarou’s mouth before pulling back.

“Haruka...” Kantarou breathed, his face flushed and his arms straining slightly for release from the tight grip the tengu still held on him.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it?” Haruka asked again, and brought one hand up to his mouth to kiss it lightly, his eyes never leaving Kantarou’s. No figment of his imagination. No fantasy. Kantarou was his. The human might tease him and look at him like that, and he might even be his master, but he still belonged to Haruka and the tengu meant to show Kantarou that too.

“Yes, but Haruka, you can’t... This isn’t...” Haruka silenced his noisy master again and was beginning to wonder why he had never thought to do this before. Flesh on flesh, touch upon touch, and beneath him Kantarou was silent but for his breathing and the occasional click as teeth met teeth.

Truthfully, they had come this far, and probably further too, what with all the things they had said to each other and the things they had done together. So really it shouldn’t have felt strange when Haruka’s cold hand found its way to Kantarou’s groin and began to stroke there. Kantarou grasped at Haruka’s back, trying to stop himself from crying out. They were still outside, more or less; the neighbours would hear, Kantarou told himself and wondered why he should care anyway when Haruka’s hands seemed so intent on making some point that Kantarou’s racing mind just couldn’t discern. Not when he could feel the tengu’s tongue tracing the outline of his lips, one hand absently on his chest, the other working rapidly and Haruka’s own body grinding relentlessly against his own.

Haruka’s legs. Kantarou couldn’t think. He was breathing heavily. It was hot. Excitement, anticipation, and almost-pain filled his veins, emptied his head of coherent thought so he knew he was calling Haruka’s name now but no longer cared. He thrust his body into Haruka’s willing hand and heard the tengu grunt, or groan, or something, but it was a sound filled with lust and want and need. With what was likely the last of Kantarou’s restraint, he reached down between them and took gentle hold of the tengu just as Haruka had taken him. He tried to move his hand, but found it almost impossible with Haruka writhing above him and his own body quickly loosing control. Not that it seemed to matter, as Haruka responded to Kantarou’s touch with a hum of approval and a quickening of his body.

Kantarou’s face, always expressive, and now more than ever. Haruka watched, fascinated, as Kantarou’s eyes danced uselessly behind his closed lids, as the human’s mouth opened and closed, gulping for air, licking his lips and breathing Haruka’s name. Kantarou was close, in all senses of the word, and Haruka was too. Kantarou’s hand squeezed and pulled on him without rhythm; an unpracticed hand, but one which was soft and gentle and welcoming. Haruka pushed himself closer to Kantarou’s heated body, trapping both their hands between them, increasing the friction, and it was so very hot. Kantarou’s legs twisted around his own, as though trying to draw the tengu even closer. Haruka obliged by crushing his lips against Kantarou’s panting mouth. The human moaned beneath him, then suddenly opened his eyes, as though surprised, his body tense and inflamed, as he lost himself to Haruka’s hand and mouth and with one last push into Kantarou’s hand Haruka joined him, letting himself spill over Kantarou’s torso even as he felt the other man’s breathing slow.

They lay there. The tengu’s body completely covering the human’s, and Haruka knew he must be heavy but Kantarou made no complaints, his eyes closing slowly and his body relaxing. Their hands still trapped between them, and it was all Haruka could do to concentrate on breathing normally and not thinking about what they had just done.

Eventually, and Haruka knew it had to happen, Kantarou spoke.

“Haruka?” he said, his voice low, tired and a little wary. Haruka humphed in response. There was a long pause before the human spoke again.

“I think we made a worse mess.” Lighthearted, crass, playful; Kantarou never changed. Haruka thought perhaps that was reassuring. He shifted off of Kantarou and sat up slowly, releasing the other man from his grasp momentarily as he looked around briefly before reaching over and picking up the bottle of ramune which had for so long stood forgotten. He would blame it on the drink, Haruka thought, and feeling rather pleased with himself, he studied the marble rattling mutedly within the sweet liquid.

“Haruka?” Kantarou asked, and the tengu could feel his master’s curious eyes watching him. Haruka lowered the bottle and looked over at Kantarou who was now leaning back against his elbows. Sweat lined his brow and his body, his cheeks flushed and his hair a mess. Haruka didn’t think he had ever seen the man looking so…disheveled.

“You look a mess,” Haruka said. Kantarou scoffed.

"Same to you,” he threw back. Haruka scowled, then a thought crossed his mind and he found himself grinning. And it was one of Kantarou’s grins. Said man pushed himself up further and looked at Haruka cautiously.

“Um, Haruka? What’s that look…ARGH!” Kantarou squealed as Haruka dumped the contents of the bottle unceremoniously over the man’s abdomen.

“What was that for?!” he cried, and went to reach for the previously abandoned towel, muttering curses under his breath. But Haruka grasped his arms again, and there was definite annoyance in Kantarou’s voice when he demanded Haruka release him. The tengu just looked at him imperiously for a moment before dipping his head then starting to lick the drink from Kantarou’s skin. The human giggled at the touch, his annoyance dissipating in the face of such a gesture.

“Well…if you put it that way…”