Title: Decorum
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Sex, silliness.
Spoilers: Post-series, no explicit reference to series end.
Summary: Kurogane figured, with as much work as it was going to take to make Fai presentable to the court at Nihon, he had better start teaching him now.
Author's Notes: Written for Reikah.

He set about training Fai the two hundred and twenty-fifth day out from Clow. As time and space passed away behind them, an unspoken understanding slowly grew between them that when this journey was done, Kurogane and Fai would return to Nihon together. Sakura and Syaoran might come with them, or they might not; sooner or later, children had to fly the nest. At least as long as Fai's magic lasted, it wasn't like they could never see or visit them again, from whatever world they finally settled.

And Kurogane figured, with as much work as it was going to take to make Fai presentable to the court at Nihon, he had better start teaching him now.

They started with language. Six months in Yama and Fai had never really moved beyond a few basic vocabulary words, no matter how Kurogane had tried to hassle him into speaking more. Kurogane had no idea how someone could be so clever with magical word-runes, and yet so completely hopeless at mastering the simple kana syllabary. But Kurogane was determined, this time, and he had finally hit on a way to turn Fai into an eager student.

Kisses. One kiss per word mastered, although Kurogane held firm that words already mastered would not count towards the total. Kurogane got to decide what constituted mastery, in terms of pronunciation, spelling, and comprehension. Fai argued and whined and objected to the necessity of learning correct stroke order, but Kurogane held firm, and he had the arms' reach to hold Fai off from claiming his prizes until he'd earned them. Fai's pouting lips were a temptation that strained even his resistance, but day by day, Fai's working vocabulary of Japanese steadily increased.

Of course, it would defeat the purpose of teaching the words if Mokona automatically translated each word into Fai's native language; so as long as their current world was a safe one, Kurogane had the kid take Mokona somewhere out of range. The boy was more than willing to get out of the way and give them some privacy for their lessons, having walked in on one too many 'training' sessions already. This had the added benefit of providing an early warning system; when they began to understand each other again, they knew that Syaoran was coming back with Mokona.

"Kuro-sama," Fai whined; he was slumped forward over the low table between them, half-sprawled over their papers and smudging the practice sheets holding his wobbly calligraphy. "Enough tonight, I tired…" He followed this up with a stream of complaint in his own incomprehensible language, but his tone made it clear enough what he was saying.

Kurogane snorted. "Speak Japanese," he prompted him, giving him a shake on the shoulder. "Tell me what you want in proper language, and we'll call it for the night."

Fai gave a martyred sigh and pushed himself back up. "Tsukarata," he whined.

"Tsukareta," Kurogane corrected him. "You mean you're tired. Sleepy."

"Yes, tired," Fai agreed, then bit his lip as he tried to call up the proper word. "Nemu… suki."

"No, dumbass," Kurogane growled.

"Nemu hoshii?" Fai tried hopefully, turning his big, baby-blue eyes on Kurogane, but Kurogane manfully resisted.

"No. Come on, you should know this," Kurogane prodded him.

"Nem… Netai," Fai said, his expression clearing in triumph as he sat up. "I want to go to sleep."

"Correct," Kurogane breathed, and he tugged on Fai's sleeve, pulling him in for a kiss.

This one lasted far longer than most of their lesson kisses, the wall clock ticking away in the close silences of the late-night library. Fai made a small sound, shifting around the sharp edge of the table so that he could climb into Kurogane's lap and wrap his arms around Kurogane's lap. At last they broke apart, both of them breathing a little harder.

"Netai," Fai breathed, and trailed one fingertip down Kurogane's jaw, trailing over his neck and down along the line of his shirt. "Kuro-sama to isshou ni netai."

Well. How could Kurogane argue with that?

The next order of business was chopsticks. Bad enough that Fai still couldn't stomach raw fish in any form; his attempts to choke it down to please Kurogane had only ended in catastrophe. But while Fai could still get by in Nihon without eating raw fish, he wasn't going to get out of using chopsticks.

Despite his considerable manual dexterity and no matter how many worlds they traveled through where chopsticks were common, he simply could not seem to get the hang of using them. He ignored Kurogane's growled admonitions and ate with his fingers, or skewered pieces of food on the point of the chopsticks, which was fine in the army camp at Yama but was not going to fly in Shirasagi court.

For months they were at a stalemate over the chopsticks issue; until, struck by the success of the language lessons, Kurogane made Fai a deal.

With careful, exaggerated motions Fai lifted the last piece of pickled daikon to his lips. Once finished, he laid the chopsticks - properly, Kurogane had spent ages trying to get him to stop sticking them upright in his rice bowl like a funeral - across his dish, and beamed up at Kurogane in pride. "All done, Kuro-tan!" he proclaimed, his accent heavy in his voice - but still quite recognizably Japanese. "No drops, no spills! Can I have my prize now?" He batted his eyelashes teasingly, but Kurogane had long practice reading his smile, and he could tell that Fai was truly pleased with himself for navigating an entire meal without mishap.

"Hm," Kurogane replied. He was proud of Fai, too. Without further comment he leaned over the side of Fai's chair, pushing the empty dishes safely back from the edge, then pulled the chair back away from the table with a scrape. Fai squeaked and clutched the edge of the chair at the abrupt movement, but Kurogane's hand on his chest pushed him back and prevented him from standing up.

Kurogane knelt in front of the chair, pushing Fai's knees apart to settle between them. "Ku, Kuro-sama," Fai stuttered as Kurogane's long, calloused fingers undid the fastenings of his trousers, trailing down the skin of his stomach to dive beneath the waistband. "Ah, um, shouldn't we… go to bedroom first?"

"Why?" Kurogane breathed on the inside of Fai's thigh, raising goosebumps on the pale skin and making Fai shiver. He enjoyed Fai's discomfiture, rare as it was to see on the ebullient, outgoing man. "The lesson will stick better if we do it here."

"Kuro-sama…" High color was rising in Fai's cheeks, and he shut his eyes tight - head falling back against the chair as his hands clutched the edges of the wooden frame tightly, in lieu of pulling Kurogane's hair. Kurogane grinned, a sharp smile that Fai couldn't see from this angle, and pulled Fai's hips forward as his mouth engulfed the tip of Fai's cock.

Fai rarely had trouble with chopsticks again after that lesson.

The final battle, and Kurogane's biggest challenge, was etiquette.

This wasn't as easy as simply memorizing something new, like vocabulary and grammar, nor only of practicing a new skill until mastered, like pronunciation or handling chopsticks. It was learning a whole new way of living, the right things to say and do at the right times, and what not to say or do at the wrong times. It was unlearning a whole lifetime of habits and manners, and coming to understand a whole new set of values. It was knowing the right way to walk, the correct way to wear the clothes of Nihon and how to move in them. It was knowing how to sit, how to stand, how to smile, and it was everything that Fai was not.

If he was being honest with himself, Kurogane admitted that he'd never had much use for elegant court manners himself. But this wasn't about him. It was about Fai, and Kurogane knew that Fai was always going to stand out in Nihon, his exotic coloring and unusual accent marking him as an outsider no matter where he went. Tomoyo would understand, and Kendappa, but Kurogane knew that most of his countrymen were not so tolerant. He wouldn't put up with any ignorant gawkers insulting Fai, but there was also a limit to the number of heads he would be able to break before Tomoyo put her foot down.

Since he wasn't much of a tutor himself - at least not on subjects that didn't involve swordsmanship - Kurogane did his best to remember the old lessons his mother had tried to teach him, in happier days in Suwa. He'd managed to locate an uninhabited classroom, two bowls, and some low-grade green tea, and was trying to teach Fai the basics of the tea ceremony.

It was frustrating going. This world was in the middle of its summer, with the strong golden sun beating down on the overhead roof and raising steam from the lawn and woods all around them. Flies buzzed in and out of the windows, and the steady drone of cicadas made an incessant counterpoint to the shuffling and scraping of cloth over wood as he walked Fai through the steps yet again.

"You're not getting it," he growled in aggravation. "It's not just about rushing through the steps as fast as possible. You have to make each motion slowly, deliberately, the point is that you are paying attention to what you are doing. It's about being in the moment, about taking in every little detail of your surroundings and being one with the setting."

Frowning, he racked his brain as he cast back through his memories for every little detail of the ceremony he could remember. Why had he never paid attention when his mother performed the ceremony? Well, because he hadn't been interested at the time, and because he hadn't thought he'd ever need to know.

"Kuro," Fai said, his tone half-teasing.

"Try it again," Kurogane instructed, ignoring the interruption. "Turn the cup in your hands before you pour the tea, you are supposed to be looking at it, and feeling appreciation for the craftsmanship -"

"Kuro-gane," Fai interrupted him.

The use of his full name was enough to snap Kurogane's full attention back to Fai, shocked and a little bit frightened by the resurfacing of a tension he'd thought was well gone between them. Was Fai angry with him, or -? But no, Fai was kneeling there, sweat-dampened hair wisping about his face, and smiling up at him with the same tender affection on his face that Kurogane so cherished.

"What?" he snapped, still shaken by the use of his name.

"Enough," Fai said gently. "Just be with me. Be here with me."

As Kurogane still stared, at a loss for what to say or do, Fai rose to his feet and walked over to him, taking Kurogane's face in his hands and kissing him.

How could he have lost sight of this? How had he allowed himself to get so wrapped up in thoughts of the future - worrying about Fai's reception at the court, planning for the life they would have someday in Nihon - that he had stopped paying attention to the life they had now? How had he let himself be so distracted, already fighting future battles in his head, that he could not enjoy a simple afternoon of peace with Fai?

Still kissing him, Fai tugged on his shoulder, and the two of them sank down onto the woven rush mat. It wasn't as soft as a bed or a couch, but it was better than hard concrete or dry leaves out on the forest floor. All of which they'd had chances to experience in their journey, too. He made a noise of protest, muffled by Fai's mouth. Fai pulled back, placing one hand across his lips to silence him, and began tugging at the laces of Kurogane's shirt.

"Be with me," he said softly, almost a whisper, and smiled at Kurogane, a smile so lazy, so honest, so absolutely beautiful that Kurogane's mouth went dry and his heart went into double-time.

"Yes," Kurogane answered, and followed him down.

It seemed that Fai still had some things to teach Kurogane, as well.

~end.