Consummation of Alcohol or Otherwise
"Kanda," Lenalee leaned sideways, "Why are you wearing clothes?"
Kanda did not dignify this with a response.
"Yeah," Lavi looked at them suspiciously, "You'll be cursed."
Kanda resisted.
"Oh, don't," Lenalee fretted, tugging on the ends of her short hair and nibbling at her lip, glancing towards Kanda as though he were some delicate little creature she had sworn to protect.
Kanda frowned.
Kanda brooded.
Kanda weighed the pros and cons of partaking in the conversation.
"It's hopeless," Lavi shook his head, "He'll be doomed for the entirety of his adult life. No man—or woman," he amended at Kanda's hasty glare, "Shall ever take his fancy."
Kanda did not think much of this.
"Oh, stop it," Lenalee muttered, swaying a little over the table. She would be a weepy drunk. "You know he's—you—you might upset him." She cuddled her bottle of sake sadly.
"What." Kanda growled.
"It's your eighteenth birthday, and you haven't been naked once," Lavi hiccupped, "I would know. I was watching. Carefully."
Kanda twitched. Lenalee lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, which somehow ended up being more like his groin. "'S okay, Kanda," she said with total, innocent sincerity, "If. If you can't—if neither of us can get anyone by the time we're thirty, I'd be okay to…" she trailed off, and then fell asleep on Lavi's shoulder quite happily. Kanda digested this with something that was trying for calm.
"What have you been telling her?" he snarled, and Lavi smiled, lazy.
"It's just so easy."