Taste

Overflow

Kenshin hated a waiting game. They bored him to tears. In the past, he'd managed to whittle away his time 'testing' Sasuke's fight readiness and alternately taking on whomever dared for a duel.

Now, he had very, very strange things to distract him.

He was aware he could be–no, was possessive. It was a trait he'd not always had, but loss and strife made some men part easily and others cling only tighter. He was in the latter group and knew it. It felt not entirely unlike his sword arm after a long battle, where he'd spent so long gripping the hilt of his blade that it was difficult to let go. And that was his fear, chiefly, in this strange triangle between himself, her, and Mitsuhide. What happened if he couldn't acclimate himself? Would he be abandoned?

His fears proved weirdly baseless.

Without arrangement, Mitsuhide and he reached a silent accord on sleeping. So long as they both could have access to the Chatelaine, bedtime was fair game, and so she spent most of the evenings pinned between them, the men wordlessly negotiating control over what of her they got. Somehow, it worked.

Intimacy was another problem entirely, and one he knew would require a little conversation–and dreaded that conversation with all his strength accordingly. But Mitsuhide, it seemed, was mercifully perceptive. They tested the boundaries with careful nods to each other. In some ways it felt like a battle: the Chatelaine was the proving ground, and every step they took was a careful agreement around the established boundaries. A sort of pattern revealed itself. Kisses were fine, so long as each of them received one in turn. Doting on her was acceptable as well. More often than not, the two of them passed some small hours of the night in a game of Go against one another, using her body as bits of territory, skirting the lines of acceptable and just edging onto the erotic.

But more than that? He was loathe to rush anything more, much less do so in Mitsuhide's presence. He had no notion of if the two of them had been intimate before and frankly didn't want to know. It made his jealousy surge something terrible.

In public, it was a dance as well. Shingen already knew of her involvement with Mitsuhide, but the man was frustratingly perceptive, and so Kenshin did not concern himself as much with cloaking the truth to his ally. No, it was Yukimura, Sasuke, and Kasugayama at large he had to contend with. What would the public face of their relationship be? Was there even a relationship to establish? And so the three of them behaved themselves like separate entities around the others.

And then Sasuke had to go and inject himself.

Mitsuhide and Kenshin were returning from a small meeting when the reached the door to Kenshin's chamber and heard voices inside.

"You have to make a decision at some point."

Kenshin frowned. Sasuke's voice was entirely too familiar. Mitsuhide quirked his brow and motioned for silence.

"I know." She mumbled. "I... Sasuke, I don't think I could do it."

"Are you sure?"

Quiet reigned. Kenshin seriously considered executing Sasuke for having the gall to speak with her alone in the first place. Alone, in his room.

"Is it about Kenshin? Or Mitsuhide?"

The two men exchanged glances.

"I..." She laughed shortly. "Both."

"Both?" A beat. "That's... very modern."

And then she laughed sweetly. "Yeah. I know. Um. Yeah. And... I... don't... want to leave them."

Leave them? Kenshin couldn't restrain himself anymore. He burst in through the door, leveling his blade at Sasuke. The ninja looked surprised for half a second before regaining his composure, not even moving from the mat where he knelt. The Princess leaped to her feet between them.