The room was semi-dark, lit only by a single flickering candle. He stepped in, pausing to allow his eyes to adjust to the odd, orange shadows, as he looked around vaguely.

	It seemed that Youzen wasn't home yet.

	Or, as somebody stole around behind him and wrapped their arms around his waist, chin resting on one shoulder--

	--Perhaps he /was/.

	Taikoubou smiled and half-turned to face his lover, disentangling himself from the casual embrace.

	"Ne, Youzen. Spent too much time as a mole again?" he asked, a hint of laughter colouring his words, as his hand automatically found Youzen's and fingers twined in an almost-embrace of their own. 

	Youzen laughed. "No," he murmured, "I haven't."

	"I've just been doing a little research.

	The shapeshifter let go of his hand, and reached behind, to the low rock, smoothed over by time, that served as a table in his place. A flash of green and blue caught Taikoubou's attention--flowers, tied together messily with a length of ribbon, simple yet aesthetic. 

	He held them loosely, cupped in a fist, and blinked.

	"Research?"

	The flowers spilled their scent into the cool air of the room--they smelled nice, like strawberries and honey and a hint of thyme.

	They reminded him of Youzen, and a little bit of himself.
	
	"Yes. Research. I now know three major languages, the identities of all superpowers and world leaders, /and/ two special occasions." his lover said teasingly.

	"White day--March the fourteenth, by modern reckoning, exactly one month after Valentine's day, a time set aside for the recipients of gifts to return the favour..."

	.../Oh/.

	"Chocolate is more traditional," he continued, "But I figured that you'd be sick of that by now. And roses just didn't seem like your type, so I..."

	It occured to Taikoubou then that Youzen should shut up, and he proceeded to make the tenzai doushi do so the quickest way that he knew how.

	"...Just got th--mmph!"

	Youzen relaxed from his initial surprise and leaned into the kiss, returning it with increasing fervour. Taikoubou's mouth parted slightly, and he took the chance to slip his tongue inside, eliciting a slight gasp from the doushi. He closed his eyes as one of Taikoubou's hands stole up to tangle in his hair, fingers running through the silky strands--giving himself over to the moment of feeling and emotion--

	--Until a sharp complaint from his lungs reminded him that passing out would /really/ spoil the mood.

	They were both breathing a little heavily when he broke off, although Taikoubou's hands were still combing playfully through his hair. 

	It felt nice.