KOUHAKU
Arthur looked away from the television as a basket of oranges was placed next to him, shifting slightly to make way for Kiku to kneel and slip his own legs under the blanket covering the table.
"Red or white?" His host asked, picking up an orange. Arthur glanced back at the television. "White, I think. It's hard to tell with so many people though. What DO they need all those back-up dancers for anyway?"
"They add presence to the stage," Kiku said simply. "Arthur-san."
"Ah, thanks." The other nation held out his hands to receive the peeled orange, individual segments arranged onto the petals of an open flower upon the peel. Arthur took a moment to silently admire the fruit, shaking his head in wonder at the effort the Asian took to beautify even the most mundane of tasks. It must be a Japanese thing, he thought.
He realized something else too as he watched Kiku select another orange from the basket on the table.
"The oranges are different, aren't they?"
The Japanese man looked up as Arthur turned and indicated with his chin the bowl of fruit set in the alcove behind him. The oranges in that particular bowl were plump and smooth, their colour much lighter and brighter than the ones on the table and in his hands. The fruit Kiku had just picked was small in comparison, its skin rough and wrinkled and bumpy with black spots and brown lines pock marking its surface, as if it had been left out in the sun for too long.
"Ah." He hummed in understanding. "Those are purely for decoration purposes, Arthur-san. These are for consumption."
Arthur stared at him, and he laughed softly at the look on the other man's face.
"Have you never heard," he asked, deft fingers digging and pulling apart the fruit. "That the uglier the exterior, the sweeter the inside?"
A second flower blossomed under his hands. Sitting up on his knees, Kiku delicately picked up a segmented petal between thumb and finger and leaned forward to press it lightly against Arthur's lips. The blond man caught Kiku's hand in his, lips parting to take in both the orange and the tips of the fingers holding it. He swallowed, and bared his teeth in a smirk as his tongue swiped droplets of juice from Kiku's fingers.
"You must be quite sour then."
His fingers closed tightly over Kiku's wrist and pulled suddenly, bringing the other man over the table and towards him with a sudden jerk. His own lips parted slightly as Arthur drew him forward.
"I could say the same for Arthur-san as well."
"Would you like to find out?"
His free hand cupped Arthur's cheek, the fingers curving and languorously trailing down the other man's neck. They continued south down to where the bare skin of his chest met the first button of his shirt and paused, fingertips tracing the edges of the button tantalizingly.
"If you do not mind."