[Misc] Greed

“There is nothing finer than women, cherry blossoms, and–”

“Sake,” Konzen finishes for him, his voice a bored drawl that’s muffled from the fact he’s looking down at his paperwork instead of up at Kenren like what’s polite and proper. “Yes, I know. I’ve heard this before.”

Kenren leans forward, props his chin on his hand and his elbow on the edge of the desk. “And yet, you’ve not taken the chance to abide by it.”

One long and elegant finger tracks a column in one document, while Konzen grasps a brush with his other hand, fluidly scribing numbers onto another piece of paper.

“There is work to be done,” Konzen says after a moment, as though he had just remembered Kenren had spoken and he’d neglected to respond.

Kenren rolls his eyes, his free hand slapping on top of the documents completely in the way. “There’s always work to be done,” he says, voice cheerful but carefully edged.

Pale eyes flicker to Kenren, edged with annoyance. “Then that should be your first clue, shouldn’t it?” Konzen says, and his eyes narrow, golden strands of hair slipping over his shoulders and catching Kenren’s eye.

He wants so badly to run his fingers through those gleaming strands, but all things in time, Kenren tells himself. First, he has to convince the no-fun-having paperwork-pusher to abandon his post. Goku could do it easily, of course, but it’s a matter of pride for Kenren to try and convince Konzen on his own. Besides, Kenren will admit wanting to have Konzen to himself for a while. Without the little monkey’s interference.

“You’re the only who complained about being bored,” Kenren says, in his best pleading tone as he gives Konzen a pitiful expression, one that always convinces Tenpou to do anything. Not that Tenpou ever turns Kenren down in the first place. “What could it hurt?” he wheedles.

Konzen sighs, a resigned gust, but there’s capitulation in there as well, and his brush lowering to the desktop confirms his agreement. “Fine,” he says. “But I’m not– mmph.”

Kenren kisses him; it’s hard not to with temptation inches away from him. The kiss is short and sweet, tasting of blatant surprise, and Kenren quickly retreats before a violent fist comes swinging toward his head.

Kenren grins, dancing toward the doorway with a “meet me later?” spilling from his lips, and ducks out the door, nimbly avoiding the inkwell that comes sailing after him. That kiss was definitely worth the roar of indignation that lingers in his ears.

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